Where the Angels Tread
by NarwhalsLoveDonuts
Summary: Lowen is a mutant traveler, not believing she has a place in the world. Azazel is a feared mutant who wants no place in the world. When a case of mistaken identity leads him to pursue her, Lowen is caught between the things she wants for herself and the mysterious turn of events that may change that. Rated T for strong language.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first story ever. I'm nervous, but I enjoy writing. I saw Azazel in the new movie and loved his character, but felt like he needed to be expounded on a bit. So I thought I'd give it a shot. I seem to have a weakness for men with sharp teeth and pointy tails.**

**Please enjoy reading.**

**PS, I'm going to throw in appearances of other well-known X-men characters in here, so have no fear and have fun with it!  
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**I do not own any characters, plotlines, or idea of "X-Men" in any way. They belong to their respective owners and creators.  
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Angels. Heavenly beings created by God to serve and carry out his commands. Flawless, terrifying creatures that have caused mortals to faint, tremble, and even beg for their lives, as evident throughout the ancient written texts. They were some of the most powerful beings, below only God himself. Such raw strength, mystery, and intensity behind these mighty beings...can you even fathom?

Yet, here we are, in this modern day and age, with these same "angels" captured in glass, stone, and paint, set on our shelves, posing in our fountains, and hung on our walls for all to see. Some, their faces round and innocent, occasionally graces with serene, patient smiles, as if they were created simply as fragile, delicate little things to be admired and enjoyed- pleasing to the eye and giving off the feelings of comfort.

Oh, they are far from comforting creatures. These supernatural anomalies, those who were appointed as deadly protectors of the Garden of Eden, never to let a mortal enter after sin had tainted their souls; the same creatures that once swooped over Egypt to claim the souls of the firstborn not marked under the protection of God; the hosts that terrified the lowly sheepherders with the news of the Jewish Messiah; all this has somehow escaped the forgetful minds of the modern day flocks, who have ground off the reverence and fear and molded the creatures called "angels" into mantlepiece pets.

Yet...there were times in his own mind where he also had let his mind wander to the more modern definition of angels, despite that fact that he of all people knew better. A tiny sliver of his consciousness wanted to think of angels as creatures of beauty of comfort. He was the one who mocked anyone who thought angels were dainty little things, but at the same time, he couldn't think of another name to describe the beauty he saw... Her. It was Her that caused him to rethink his theory for a split second. She was the paradox that made him rethink the fact that angels were supposed to instill fear. She was...angelic. And for once, that was not a bad thing. But somehow, that made it all the more terrifying.

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"Are you worried about police showing up?"

"Pfft. No. If they do, we all have lots of places to hide what shit we don't want seen. It's not illegal for us to be here, they just want us to think it is. Besides, I can't imagine a scenario where a cop would want to intentionally touch a hippie. We're a filthy breed of people."

Short bursts of laughter peppered around the fire pit at the comment. The flames were lit in the middle of a rock circle, plenty of people having helped and gathered around. Guitars were in hand, being gently strummed, and food, various pipes, papers, and other articles were being passed around. The crickets were becoming more vocal as the sun hovered over the treeline in the distance, threatening to disappear for the night as the camp got themselves settled comfortably for the night. The girl who issued the remark leaned back against the fallen log and gave a lop-sided smile to no one in particular. The boy who had asked the question shifted uncomfortably from his seat in the dirt.

"Don't let Lowen fool you, Kaye," a soft-spoken blond smiled at the nervous look on his face. "Police usually leave us alone, and not all cops are out to get us. They just don't understand our lifestyle. People fear what they don't understand." Grunts of agreement all around.

"Ain't that the truth..."

"Here here!"

Another snort.

"Sounds like we're in the same category as mutants," Kaye mused out loud. Lowen scowled in his direction, the setting sun catching her eyes, causing her pupils to become smaller, making the green background they had rested upon look vivid and dangerous.

"You're not a traveler just yet, so don't be using 'we' so lightly," she grunted. A few pairs of eyes glanced around at each other, sharing a hidden message.

"I know, but seriously," the boy, Kaye, continued, oblivious to the dangerous dip of Lowen's eyebrows. "It seems like you guys are in the same category as mutants! I mean, you seem to have the same problems with law enforcement, and the same struggles. I wonder if there's such a thing as a mutant caravan...?" he trailed off.

"Why the FUCK would you even compare the struggles of mutants to travelers?" Lowen snapped suddenly, startling a few people out of their quiet contentment with the fire. Kaye looked taken aback as stunned, awkward silence settled around everyone.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean it travelers were mutants or anything," Kaye fumbled, trying to calm the unexpected attack of anger. Lowen's breathing became louder as the boy continued to try to make amends. Alarmed murmurs from the others began to invade his ears. "I only meant that you guys and mutants are kinda' in the same boat, you know, being kinda' the outlaws and all that..."

"Kris," a dread-haired brunette whispered urgently. "get Spooky over here," he ordered.

"Spookyyy!" the little blond started to get up and yell over her shoulder. Lowen clenched her teeth, the blond seeing her muscles bulge from where they rested over the log.

"Travelers may have run-ins with the law and are given shit, I'll give you that, but there is no amount of comparison between mutants." Her voice was eerily even and laced with coiled rage that threatened to release itself at any moment.

"Spoooookyyyyy!" Kris called louder, slight fear complimented the urgency in her voice.

"You can pay your fines and tickets, quit traveling, and blend back into 'normal' society," Lowen continued, a hiss working its way into her words. "but you can NEVER be accepted as normal when you're a mutant FREAK." Kaye recoiled, his mouth open slightly as he stared at her, nervous at her show of anger.

"I...I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like..."

"Lowen! Do you want a banana?" came the casual voice of a boy who stepped seemingly out of nowhere and into the light of the fire. Lowen whipped her head around to face him. He was wearing only filthy blue jeans and a leather cord necklace with a tooth hanging from it. His scruffy, dark hair stuck up in random patches, making it look like he had just gotten up. He grinned impishly at her, triumphantly holding up the previously mentioned banana. The pissed off look didn't leave Lowen's face. Darkness was settling around the trees, causing deep shadows to fall across her features.

"Spooky," she growled. "why the hell do you think...?"

"I have some strawberries, too," he interrupted casually, without noting the panicked looks on the faces of their campfire comrades.

"Really? How'd you manage that?" Lowen asked curiously, all signs of malice leaving her voice and face without warning. The heaviness around the pit lifted, cuing up the guitarist to resume a simple tune as Lowen lifted herself up to follow the boy offering the berries.

"Doc traded to me for some coffee grounds and my black bandana," he explained as the pair walked through the trees and followed the path into the darkness. Poor Kaye was left embarrassed and ashamed, still not understanding what he had done to set her off. He was new to traveling and hadn't gotten the chance to find out what made his fellow gypsies tick. Kris smiled at him and patted him on the arm in a reassuring gesture.

"It's okay. You didn't know. It's nothing weird, she's just a little sensitive to the issue of mutants and prefers not to talk about it if she can help it. You did nothing wrong." Kaye nodded, not quite convinced enough to not feel completely guilty about it.

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Lowen was tailing Spooky at a steady gait, not thinking about anything in particular except about how she loved fresh fruit, especially berries. She let her mind wander as they passed fireflies casting their green light onto the foliage and then extinguishing themselves only microseconds later. She vaguely wondered if she could catch an army of fireflies in a jar and have them light up the dark path for her...

While musing over this thought, she collided heavily with Spooky's back.

"Dah! You oaf! Why'd you-?"

"You. You lost your temper," he said stoutly, turning to face her with his arms crossed. He wasn't angry, this much she knew, but she could tell he wouldn't tolerate outburst like that. Not in front of other people. Her mouth opened then shut quickly as she set her lips in a straight line and lowered her eyelids.

"I know," she said. He frowned at her.

"And?" he asked.

"And what?" she asked right back.

"I'm not going this route," he answered back firmly. They stared at each other for a moment, neither one budging an inch. Lowen scrunched up her nose in frustration, but Spooky simply waited. She finally put down her walls and threw her hands up.

"What do you want me to say? The kid started talking about the plight of mutants like he had any clue as to what he was talking about! It pisses me off! That shit's not table talk, Spooky! You and I both know that, and it makes me sick hearing it from the mouth of someone who's...who's..." she spat, clearly annoyed to the point of being angry.

"Normal?" Spooky finished softly for her. She growled an incoherent exclamation of disgust and frustration and plopped herself onto a stump, setting her elbows on her knees and holding her chin in her palms. Spooky paused for a moment to study his friend. She had a stick stuck in her knit hat and small leaves in her snarled brown hair. The smudges of dirt on her light green, strappy dress marked tell-tale signs of someone who was used to getting dirty in the forest. Her gray, fleece-lined cloth boots slumped sadly around her ankles, even though she has tied them to stay mid-calf. He noted the part sad, part angry look on her face. He'd come to know that expression very well.

"Aren't your legs cold in that dress?" he asked. She lowered her eyelids and proceeded to roll her eyes towards the upward branches.

"Oh please, you know I'm fine as long as my feet are warm. And I'm sure you didn't drag me away from my spot that I _know_ someone is going to steal before I get back just to lecture me on my fashion choices." She sighed, slightly exasperated. Spooky nodded and bumped her over slightly to sit next to her.

"Lo, I know how it is, I'm not in the same situation as you, of course, but there'd be no way that you would come at me with the 'you-have-no-idea-what-any-of-it's-like' mentality just because I'm not a mutant, would you?" he chided. She sighed, closing her eyes and rubbing between her eyebrows as if she had suddenly gotten a headache.

"Spook, that's different... I've know you since the beginning of high school. We're friends, and we know what each other's been through..."

"Then you probably remember my feelings as the only stepchild among four other children who were clearly treated different than me?" he interrupted. She became quiet, so he continued. "The same thing, even though it's not the same thing," he explained. "I felt like I was the freak. I was ostracized from my family after that. My own mother began ignoring me. So, eventually, I left. And now, here we are." He did a grand gesture with his arm at their surroundings. Without shifting her position, she darted her eyes to meet his, giving him a hard look. He shrugged. "Long story short," he finished. More silence. He waited patiently.

"I'll go apologize," she stated quietly. "I immediately felt really stupid and jerkish after all that went down..thanks for pulling me out. I wasn't going to go berserk or anything, I was just upset." She sighed as he smiled down at her.

"Hey, no judgment towards you on my part," he grinned. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"I'd be even more okay if you hadn't lied about those imaginary strawberries," she grumbled. Spooky laughed loudly.

"I swear to God they're not imaginary! I really do have them. They're back at our base camp," he confirmed as they both stood up. She sighed and smiled sadly.

"Thanks for always keeping me from fucking up too hard." He shrugged.

"That's what friends are for, right, ya' freak?" They both laughed, the mood lighter now as they turned on their flashlights to follow the path down to their tent.

"Yeah, sure. I want that banana, too."

"Demanding little imp!" he gasped in mock shock.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hand it over," she snorted.

"Only if you give me the good sleeping bag and take-"

A loud scream suddenly erupted from the trees, causing screeching bats to fly for quieter cover and making both Lowen and Spooky jump. Lowen's previous feelings of calm was quickly replaced with the urge to fight. Her teeth clicked together and she let loose a growl from her throat.

"What the-?" Spooky gasped.

Neither one has sufficient time to finish their thoughts.

"Why, hello there. We heard there were mutants here," purred a voice that was flanked with the glow of flames. Lowen gasped and dropped her flashlight.

"SPOOK, GET DOWN!" She lunged sideways as a burst of fire barreled down the path to meet the both of them. She crawled on the ground as the flames extinguished, causing her vision to seem as if it become considerably darker. She whipped her head around frantically, intense fear building up in her chest. She couldn't see a thing. Before she had a chance to call out, a hot breath warmed her ear.

"Good evening," it hissed. "Time to go."

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**I'd appreciate some kind of feedback. Thanks for reading what I've got so far.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello. Thank you for sticking around for the second chapter. I just want to make sure everything flows well. I pumped this one out kinda' quickly, so I hope it satisfies.**

**As a side note, this story is set in present day. I forgot to add that in the first chapter. Sorry!**

**On a more different side note, I will try to update when I can, but I have a 6 week old baby taking up a lotta' my time, as well as housemates who share this computer. So please be patient while I write. I love writing, and I hope you love reading the story just as much to stick around.**

**Updates maybe..once every week or 2 weeks, probably on average.**

**Enjoy, and my humble thanks to those who have reviewed so far. Keep it up, mates. I appreciate it more than you know.**

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Lowen didn't think another second before she had turned and gave the owner of the voice a greeting, courtesy of her closed fist. She felt her knuckles connect to a solid body part and jumped back when she heard a satisfying yell from her assailant.

"Fuck you, man! Fuck you!" she screeched, not thinking about anything but her own rage at the brutality of the attack. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough to see the silhouette of a figure kneeling with one knee on the ground and holding his shoulder. All she heard was a cruel chuckle as their eyes suddenly met.

"Such filth from the mouth of a lady," the deep, scratchy voice sneered. Lowen bristled, totally ready to dish out another attack, this time on the bastard's face. She took one step forward, seconds away from making her mental threats reality, but before she even had a chance to say another word, the clank of cold metal rang out, and the figure fell once again into the dirt. Lowen stopped in her tracks, immobile with bewilderment, her mouth hanging slightly open from the unexpected shock of the new occurrence.

"You know, you need to remember that just because I don't have powers like you and this fucker, that doesn't mean I can't defend myself." As suddenly as it had started, the brawl was over. A flashlight clicked on to reveal the towered form of Spooky who was studying his downed victim.

"Spooky!" she yelped, running over to him. He only grinned.

"This military grade shit is awwwesome!" he sing-songed, twirling the heavy flashlight he had wielded triumphantly. Lowen couldn't help but laugh, but cut herself off, realizing the severity of the situation. Her attention turned to the unconscious male. His close-shaven hair was mixed with blood, where she assumed Spooky had whacked him. He wore green camouflage cargo pants and a plain white tee with a brown vest over it. Nothing about him was at all noteworthy, except for the fact that he had nearly incinerated them only moments ago. The two of them were breathing heavily, leaving the crickets to fill in the silence. It was quiet for another second.

"What the hell _was_ that?" Spooky was the first one to break the silence. Lowen didn't really know how to answer and only shrugged stupidly, not taking her eyes off the guy. His breathing was even, but that was the only sign of life he gave. She gave Spooky a look.

"How do we tell everyone?" she asked. Spooky made a move towards the man.

"Hell if I know," he grunted, the adrenaline still coursing through his body as he made a move to lift him. "First I suggest that we take this asshole back to camp and tie him up or something so he's not back in the woods, free to cause more shit for us." The body secured on his shoulders, he then turned to his companion who was shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot. He cocked a quizzical brow at her. "You disagree?" he prompted.

"No! I just..." Lowen averted her eyes from his, her nervousness with evident with the clicking of her tongue on the roof of her mouth. She frowned, not quite knowing how to articulate herself clearly. "Who the hell is this guy anyways?" she finally blurted. Spooky was quiet.

"I don't know," he said softly, but she caught a wicked spark in his eye. "But I'll bet we can find out."

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"Hey. Hey! HEY! Wake up!"

The stranger groaned, his head and collarbone throbbing in pain as he growled and rolled his head.

"Sleeping Beauty's up," came a short announcement. The man's eyes snapped open, only to have him realize that he was surrounded by a pack of solemn, dirty kids and, unfortunately for him, he was also tied to a tree. More accurately, he was _duct taped_ to a tree. He scanned their faces with his features twisted in fury when he realized that these kids were unarmed and somehow had gotten the better of him. His gaze stopped on the figure of Lowen. He glared at her, causing her to nervously shift slightly behind Spooky, who only crossed him arms over his chest and glared right back.

"So," the brunette with dreadlocks asked casually as he stepped forward to face the prisoner. "Care to explain why you were attacking my family?" The man spit loudly at him and turned his glare towards him, daring him to try something.

"Fuck this, Pippin! I say we level this fuckin' pyro right here!" a burly fellow seethed, lumbering towards the man, an ax gripped in his hand. The man's facial expression quickly turned to one of alarm. Apparently, these kids weren't as helpless and unarmed as he thought. The brunette, Pippin, only raised his arm calmly at his angry friend.

"You know we don't do violence here, Ox. That's exactly why we left Babylon* in the first place," he stated calmly. The captured man gave a hearty snort, making a few members of the unorthodox posse jump.

"Who the hell are you? Peter Pan and his lost boys?" he snarled.

"No. Just travelers looking for peace in an alternate society," Pippin replied calmly as if the man had truly cared enough for a civil answer. "I'm Pippin, the dude with the ax is Ox, the pretty blond is Kris, the shrimp is Kaye, the guy with the guitar is Vash..." Before Pippin had finished speaking, Lowen boldly stepped out of her spot behind Spooky to face the man.

"...And he's Spooky and I'm Lowen, the kids' you attacked, you ass! Who are you and what do you want?" she demanded angrily, suddenly sick of the banter and impatient for her questions to be answered. Their prisoner made a face like he had eaten something nasty.

"My name is Crossfire, and unlike you freaks, it ain't a fuckin' hippie name."

"It's a mutant name?" Spooky spoke quietly, making it sound more like a statement than a question. The group turned to stare at him for a moment before turning their attention back to the intruder.

"Oh, I get it. You must be the _smart _one" he sneered at him. "Yeah, that's right. I've got to power to manipulate fire. Pretty awesome shit, yeah?"

"That doesn't answer the question of why the hell you attacked us," Lowen barked before any more insults could be exchanged. Crossfire grinned and shrugged his less injured shoulder.

"I might as well tell ya'. It's not like you'd go to the police or some shit, not like they'd listen to you anyway," he mocked. Lowen felt the urge to clobber the guy. "Okay, fine. I was actually lookin' for a lumberjack fella' I was sent to find. I was ordered to bring 'em back alive if I could. A mutant, apparently, that I was supposed to bring back for some experiment or some shit they apparently need to finish. I heard these two talking and figured, that you were the mutant they were looking for; apparently not. You don't fit the description, but I couldn't tell in the dark, so I just moved in anyways, assuming you were the one." He moved his wolfish gaze to Lowen, whose eyes had bugged out, her breath caught in her throat.

"Oh shit," she fumbled. The group turned towards her once again.

"You're a mutant, _too_? Like this guy?" Kaye burst out suddenly. Crossfire's laughter boomed out, echoing through the trees. Lowen ignored it and frowned, scuffing the dirt with her toe, not looking at anyone.

"I'm nothing like this guy," she snorted. "But, yeah, I'm a mutant.. I figure with my stupid outburst earlier that you might have picked up on it," she mumbled. The look of awe on Kaye's face was enough to make her feel uncomfortable.

"Hey, do you want to show him now?" Spooky prodded gently. Lowen wrinkled her nose and shrugged, still not looking up.

"I guess I don't mind.." she mumbled. Crossfire examined her attentively, genuinely interested, while the rest of the group turned to witness her transformation.

Lowen shifted to stand with her feet shoulder width apart, her companions all stepping back a bit. She hunched her shoulders in concentration, letting out a low growl as every hair on her body stood straight up on its goosebump base. Her face contorted into a look of intense concentration as her breath became louder, heavier.

All of the sudden, white wings burst from her shoulder blades. Kaye's gasped loudly. Lowen yelled in effort as a long, brown, fur-tipped tail appeared out from under her dress. All was silent as she simply stood there and panted slowly, trying to get her bearings about her again. She looked slowly at Kaye, who stood there with his mouth wide open, and slowly slipped off her blue knit beanie, revealing a pair or furry brown ears. She met his eyes with an uncomfortable half smile.

"If you keep that up, the bats will shit down your throat," she said weakly, noting his shameless gape and slipping her cap back into place over her dark tangled hair.

"Why didn't you guys tell me?" he burst out, turning in awe to the rest of the group. Pippin shrugged.

"It's kind of a touchy subject. We figured that if she wanted to, she'd tell you when she was ready. A lot of people aren't very accepting of it."

"Yeah, you'd think things would be different in a community of hippies, but, sadly, that's not always the case," Kris spoke up, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"Isn't it cool?" Spooky triumphed praise to his friend. Lowen only sighed as she plopped herself down heavily on the ground, her wings folding themselves up and molding into her back. Her tail also curled itself up and disappeared without a trace.

"And this is just the physical manifestation of my mutation," she mused quietly.

"You mean there's more to it?" Kaye pushed, excitement riddling his voice.

"Look, kids, this is all very cute, and I hate to break up the lovefest-orgy shit, but I've got to get going. If you ain't the guy I was supposed to bring back, I've got other shit to do," Crossfire interrupted unceremoniously. The group looked at each other. This guy was getting cocky.

"Sure, we'll let you get going," Pippin started slowly. Spooky only gave him a look.

"Is that so?" he questioned. Pippin only gave him a sly look.

"After we're done with him," he smiled. Kaye looked bewildered as the rest of the group chuckled.

"I thought hippies don't do violence?" he questioned. Ox grunted and put his hand on the younger boy's head.

"We're not really gonna' hurt him, but punks who screw with us this badly usually don't get away without a little souvenir and a story to tell," he rumble happily. All eyes turned back to Crossfire, his cockiness now gone, replaced with a growing fear.

"Wha-what do you plan on doing?" his voice betraying his previous facade. Pippin turned his back to him and shrugged as he knelt down to rummage through a tattered bag.

"My friend, this little escapade will involve laxatives, prune juice, and, yet again, tying you to a tree," he informed his captive. The group whooped and hollered, ready to impose justice.

"Oh, and another thing," Pippin added calmly, looking at the shocked man over his shoulder. "We will also be relieving you of your clothes." Crossfire started screaming, cursing, and struggling at that. Pippin only turned back to the bag. "_And_ you'll be upside down."

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The motor of the beat up van hummed along, carrying its seven passengers down the road and on their way out of the woods. It was stripped of all the backseats, leaving everyone to lay down blankets and sleeping bags to make the floor comfortable. Pippin, seeing as it was his van, even had put a mattress in the very back and covered it was pillows, blankets, and anything else soft that he could find for a reasonable bargain in random little thrift shops.

It was mid-morning, but it was already hot and humid, causing a bit of a foul mood to fall on its riders. The night they spent was restless, knowing that it'd be a better idea to pack up and leave first thing in the morning following the bizarre confrontation. Lowen lounged lazily on the floor, her back pressed to the wheel well with Spooky towering on the mattress next to her, sprawled out in a grumpy mood from the heavy air. Lowen didn't mind the stuffiness, though. She was used to be canned up in the van so long that she actually felt more at ease there than she did anywhere else. She absently hummed along to a Nirvana song that occasionally leaked through the static of the old radio as Kaye inched his way over from between the rest of the sleeping crew.

"Hey, that was _wicked _awesome last night," he grinned. Lowen looked away from the window and stared at him. "Well, I mean, it kinda' sucked that you guys got attacked an all, but I never met a mutant before! Not in real life, at least! I don't think it's a bad thing at all, I mean, it's crazy, you know, but that's just so cool! You said you can do other other things? What else can you...can...you..." He had trailed off nervously at the consistency of Lowen's unwavering gaze. He grew silent. Her face remained still, unimpressed.

"You done?" she asked with an edge of annoyance biting her words. Spooky scowled from his perch and whacked her on the head, saving the boy from any further scrutiny.

"Ow! Dude, seriously?" She swiped at him, but he only leaned back to avoid it and turned to Kaye.

"It's okay, man. She's just a little grumpy from last night. Lowen, seriously..." he warned. She let out a breath through her nose and shook her head.

"Sorry, Kaye. I just have a hard enough time as it is, you know? I don't mean to act snappy about it, but...I guess I just have a hard time accepting it." She became quiet. Actually, they all became quiet. She glanced at the boy out of the corner of her eye and nearly laughed at the sobering look on his face. "Never mind, dude, it's not that bad. It's just weird, is all. I've never used my powers to fight anyone before or anything, so I'm not a crazy combat machine like the guys you see fighting crime and shit on the news and stuff. I just...exist." She frowned at her own words, her eyes clouded with a slight bitterness, but it passed quickly. She really hadn't meant to get that deep, even if it wasn't really that deep at all. "So," she continued with a shrug of submission. "What do you want to know?"

"Well, uh..your powers..you have more?" Kaye fumbled, trying to be as delicate as he knew how. She gave him a smug smile.

"Kind of. The wings and stuff aren't really a 'power', per se. They're a physical appearance that accompanies my powers. Flight just happens to be a perk."

"So you _can _fly!" the half statement, half question came out quickly. She frowned slightly.

"Well, not really. I can fly very short distances, which is awesome for sneaking and just getting places in general, but...I have yet to... soar," she mused cryptically. She was silent for a moment, pondering a way to explain better. "I think there's a problem with my wings. They're either weak or I'm just too damn heavy," she joked, cracking a smile. "I used to try to use them, exercising them and trying to build up strength, shoot, I even tried to lose weight trying be able to fly! But nothing worked. So I have to be content with flying short distances and staying low to the ground."

"That's awesome," Kaye whispered, as if the volume of his voice would somehow cause Lowen to evaporate.

"Yeah, it kinda' is, but that's not all," she continued as the boy leaned closer. "My 'real' power is empathy." Silence. "You know, I'm an empath," she chided, noting the blank look on her listener's face. She chuckled slightly. "What an empath does," she explained. "is all based on emotion. I can feel what other people feel, sometimes I can generate it into physical pain, which is usually unpleasant for me," she said sadly. She locked eyes with him. "You know the term 'broken hearted'? It's used to describe the pain of sadness." At this point, Spooky had joined to listen as her voice suddenly got softer.

"Well, I've felt that pain once...I had just discovered my powers not too long before. I was walking by a funeral home one day when an old man stepped out of the front doors. I had just wanted to get to the park to hang out with my friends. I can't really explain it, but I just...I just stopped dead in my tracks and couldn't tear my attention away from this guy. He was wobbling down the steps, some dude in a suit holding his other arm. Like an idiot, I just stared. Then, this guy just looked up and locked eyes with me. I didn't know what was happening to me...I literally felt like my heart was being ripped apart inside my chest. My brain just had visions that weren't my own, I didn't know where they were coming from! Love, life, contentment, happiness, joy, then all of sudden...gone. It was all replaced in an instant with darkness...desolation...despair...death... I was overwhelmed and just fell to my knees and started bawling my eyes out like a damn baby. It all only took a split second, but I felt so...broken. So lost...it was what I was. What I became."

Everyone in the van was silent, the only noises being the quiet radio and the crunch of gravel underneath the tires. Lowen hugged her knees to her chest and rested her chin on their tops.

"That's it, I guess...I can't do anything useful with it except get an idea of what other people are feeling, really. I've learned to block it out better than what I could, but I can't project it or manipulate it or anything. I don't even know to the fullest extent of what I can do" She lowered her eyes, sadness seeping into her pose, two pairs of eyes locked intently on her own. "I guess that's when I decided that it was really time to leave society for good." Her head lifted suddenly, all traces of anguish leaving to be replaces with her usual air of nonchalance. "But it's not really as tragic as I make it out to be, so just chillax about it, hmm?" Kaye nodded slowly.

"Do you have a mutant name?" he asked. Lowen looked surprised, then just laughed at the ridiculous nature of the question considering the severity of her previous monologue.

"Well, actually, I do," she smiled mischievously and leaned forward. "I'm the 'Gryphon'."

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"Well, you're in luck, Mister, ah..."

"Azazel. Just Azazel, if you please," the shadowed figure across from him corrected.

The man behind the desk nodded. "Yes, of course. Well, _Azazel_," he resumed. "We do have information on a mutant that fits your description. As you know, we're kind of an... unofficial records guild dedicated to the collection of data on assassins, mutants and otherwise. I'm actually impressed that you managed to find us. We're too underground for most seekers to even hear about us." The man smiled and leaned his elbows on the top of the desk, tapping the tips of his fingers together. "Do you have the money?" he nearly purred. A rather large suitcase was unceremoniously slammed in front of the informant, causing him to jump, and opened up, revealing a ridiculous number of stacked bills.

"Cash," his deep voice spoke shortly. "Now, tell me what I would like to know, Mr. Roden," he rumbled, sitting down on the leather chair across from his source.

"Ah, very good," the man said, adjusting himself from the previous shock. He carefully picked up a file and shuffled through it. "A man named Davin Wells, aka, Crossfire, a mutant who can manipulate fire, was sent out by a secret government agency..." At this, the man paused and looked up at his client. "I'm sorry, but you understand that the name of the agency is also classified unless more payment in given," he explained.

"I don't need the agency name. Just the basics. Please continue."

"Yes, yes, moving on... ahh...oh, yes. Mr. Wells was hired to bring back a class 5 feral mutant that was rumored to be residing in a national forest in Washington. Along the way, Mr. Wells hit a snag that involved another unrelated mutant and ended up going back to the agency a short time later with the mission being written up as a failure. _But_, that one mutant he _did_ come across was one with the characteristics you requested we look up." Mr. Roden glance up with a triumphant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Large white wings, Mr. Azazel. Mr. Wells had described them as 'angel wings'."

Azazel leaned back slowly in the chair, his shadowed expression not betraying any emotion. He was quiet for a moment as his source leaned forward eagerly, trying to gauge a reaction. Azazel stood up slowly, his tall, muscular figure towering over the desk.

"Thank you, Mr. Rowen. You have done well and told me what I needed to know. I appreciate your time and business." He reached out his hand which the other man grasped anxiously.

"Of course, of course, the pleasure is all mine, Mr. Azazel." The opposing man only rumbled a laugh.

"And now, if you don't mind, sir, I'm off to hunt an angel." With that, Azazel turned his back and disappeared suddenly in a fog of thick black smoke. Mr, Rowen grasped aloud, swearing that he had seen a forked red tail before his customer vanished.

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***"Babylon" is a traveler term referring vaguely to towns, cities, or current "modern society" in general.**

**Worked FOREVER on this chapter, and I'm still not sure I got it right! Hopefully I haven't lost anyone yet. Would you keep reading if I told you that the previously mentioned "feral mutant" may make an appearance in the next chapter..? :]**

**My apologies for the lack of Azazel. He'll be showing up soon, I can assure you! So please stick around. If you could also leave a review of some kind, that would be grand.**

**On a fun side note, the scenes with the hippies is based off my own life. I used to actually be a traveler before I got pregnant. The revenge with laxatives? We did that to a bad dude. The setting up a camp in the woods? Did that, too. And the character Spooky was actually my road dog (AKA, my "wingman", if you will) while out and about. So a lot of it's accurate portrayal of road life. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for sticking around! I'm eager to keep the story going. Enjoy the third chapter.**

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The van slowly stalled to a halt.

"Hey! What the hell, man?" Ox yelled, sticking his whole body out the window. Lowen, still groggy after dozing, sat up straighter to look at what was happening. Pippin too has craned his neck out the window and was muttering to himself. Before Lowen or anybody else knew what was happening, Ox has ripped open the passenger side door and jumped out with every curse word he knew spewing out of his mouth.

"Ox! Knock it off! Get back here!" Pippin demanded. Lowen rubbed her eyes and raised herself up to look out the windshield. A large truck was blocking their path. Not only that, but the truck was stacked with wood. Trees, to be more specific, large trees, and Ox didn't look too happy about it.

_Uh oh_, she thought, scrambling over her napping cohorts to reach the door. She slid it open just as Pippin opened his own door and stepped out of the drivers seat.

"I'm serious, bro, get back here," the normally relaxed hippie warned his friend. Just as he said this, a tall man came lumbering out from behind the large vehicle. He wore only blue jeans and a white wifebeater that was stained with sweat from the heavy heat. His dark hair was spiked up all crazy-like in patches and he looked like he needed a shave from the looks of those mutton-chops. When he saw Ox lumbering towards him, she could see his clench his teeth over the cigar set on the edge of his lips. Lowen stopped. A logger. She also knew that things could get _real _ugly between a hippie and a logger _real _fast.

"'The hell do_ you_ want?" the man growled. The hairs on Lowen's arms pricked up and she shivered, even though it was blazing outside, as she stumbled out and towards the two now facing off.

"Last warning, Ox! Back down!" Pippin was now following his companion.

"What the _fuck_ you, doing man?" Ox fumed. The man only shrugged and shifted the cigar in his mouth.

"My job," he said simply, eying the fuming hippie up and down.

"What the hell are you doing to the trees, man?" he yelled, thrusting his arm towards the fallen wooden beasts setting defeated on the back of the rig. The logger gave him a look that was between amusement and annoyance.

"Well, I sure ain't takin' 'em out on a date," he said coolly. Surprisingly, she reached Ox before Pippin did.

"Wait! Stop! It's okay! You're only doing your job! I know that! We _all_ know that!" She shot Ox a look. "We're leaving! It's cool!" she said, taking a hold of Ox's arm and tried to guide him away, but Ox jerked himself out of her grasp.

"No, it's NOT cool!" he raged, getting more and more furious by the second. "This monster is cutting down our forests! Mother nature gave this to us to care for, and this guy is ripping it down!"

"Look kid," the man stepped forward with a growl. Lowen felt panic rising up in her.

"We're leaving! We're leaving now!" she all but shrieked. Then she stopped short. _I was actually lookin' for a lumberjack fella'... _Crossfire's words echoed through her head. _...A mutant, apparently..._

"Are you a mutant?" she blurted suddenly. The two seething males stopped suddenly in their tracks.

"What's it to ya', girly?" he asked suspiciously. Lowen shifted her weight nervously. She could almost hear Spooky furiously screaming "What the hell are you doing?" in her ear, and she sure as hell knew that if she turned around, that's what the look on his face would be saying.

"Well, uh...I'm a mutant, too!" The man gave her a hard stare. "My name is, uh, Lowen," she offered with a nervous grin. She could see his stance relax a bit as he lowered his fists and felt his emotions calm slightly.

"Yeah, I am," he grunted, looking her directly in the eye. "The name's Logan."

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**_Very_ short, but I felt that I needed to update to communicate to people that I'm not dead...yet. **

**Thank you for reading! Please leave a review, mates.**

**I just discovered the "Traffic Stats" button yesterday and had a "NO-WAY-isn't-the-internet-just-so-magical?"-dork moment (technology still amazes me for some weird reason). I have to say, I'm flattering and want to gush praise at all who added or favorite`d the story. It's nice to know it's actually getting read. Thank you all very very much. I hope you keep coming back for more.**


	4. Chapter 4

**My amazing readers! Thank you for your patience! Even if you weren't very patient at all, in which case, thank you for your loyalty! I have been super busy with mi bambino, and on top of that, my housemates crashed the computer. (not that they let me use it too much, anyway). I am currently on vacation to see my family, who kindly rendered me usage of their computer so I could continue writing. One day, I'd love to be able to own a laptop… **

**So, my humble apologies, but please enjoy the next chapter of the story. Again, you are amazing, readers!**

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Logan gave a sideways glace to his new passenger and saw her chewing nervously on the side of her bottom lip. His eyebrows descended very close to the tops of his eyes as he grunted and turned his eyes back to the road. She had settled into an odd mood the second she sat down in the copilot seat. Now, Logan wasn't a man who cared to make small talk, but he at least expected some words out of this girl who seemed to have no trouble vocalizing when they had first met.

"Kid, you're makin' me nervous," he said bluntly. Lowen seemed to return from her stupor and turned her head to face him without moving her elbow from the ledge of the glass window.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, her voice a soft, timid whisper. Logan found himself irritated at this reaction.

"Why the total 180-turn, kid? One moment, you're keeping your mammoth friend from trying to knock me out, then you beg me for a ride as if you've been tortured, now you're bein' all meek, like you're scared shitless. Care to explain what's going on?" He was open and blunt. Why beat around the bush to get answers you want? Just out and ask, was his philosophy. Lowen's uncurled herself from the seat to rest her feet on the floor, only to find they barely brushed the top of the truck's floor mat. She sighed and swung her legs as if to distract herself.

"You know.. you could have gone after him," she said quietly.

"Who? The mutant? Crossfire or whatever the hell his name was? Naw." He grunted yet again. "Those days are over and done. I have the answers to my life now, and I'm content with my position in everything. You can't chase every crazy who comes your way. It's bound to happen when you've lived a life like mine. And before you ask, it's a long story, one that I don't care to tell right now." Lowen nodded, her eyes not leaving him for a moment. For some odd reason, she felt reverent of this man without even knowing his struggles." He shifted his gaze onto her once more. "But that didn't answer my question, darlin'."

Lowen lowered her head and felt her face redden slightly at the endearment. She knew that it was just something he most likely called all girls, but she couldn't help but like the way it sounded when he said it. After all, who doesn't like to feel flattered? The window made a hollow sound as she thumped the side of her head against it. She was quiet for another minute before she spoke again.

"He came after me first, you know," she said quietly. Logan nodded.

"I'm aware," he replied, his eyes on the road. Lowen frowned out towards the scenery that rushed by.

"It makes you wonder who else out there is hunting for us." Logan gave her a skeptical look.

"Kid, I'm no sage, but believe me when I say that not everyone's the enemy."

"No, no, I know that. I have the belief that people are basically good until they make the decision to be bad."

"To each their own," Logan shrugged. Lowen mirrored his action and continued.

"I guess what I mean is that because we're different, because we're…" she paused. "…mutants," she said slowly, "it means that we're not guaranteed peace…maybe ever."

"That's a pretty dismal conclusion for a hippie to come to, kid. But I can't say I follow you."

"I hate to be paranoid, but sometime made me realize that there could be someone out there looking for me, all because I'm a mutant. If that person happened to find me, who's to say that they won't hurt the people I'm with when they find me?" Logan took a deep breath.

"Hmm.. that's a tough one, kid," he said. Lowen nodded, waiting for him to offer some kind of advice or say something more, but the both of them remained silent. In a way, she was relieved, part of her not really wanting a lecture on the opposing side, and the other part just plain tired. Yet, she could help the nagging feeling of her statement hovering over her like a dark cloud of doom, lingering above her head due to her lack of answers over the issue that warred in her mind.

"Did you know that I'm actually a teacher?" Logan's voice cut into her brooding. Lowen's face contorted into an expression of shock.

"What?" she asked dumbly. "Seriously?" Logan chuckled at her awestruck reaction.

"Yeah, I'm serious. I go out into the woods to work on jobs when my students are out for the summer. It keeps me sane to be out of the cities and just be in my…'natural habitat', if you will," he chuckled, seeing her stare and knowing that he had her full attention. "I work at a school for mutants. We're probably like any other school out there, except for the fact that we also teach kids to control and tap into the potential of their powers. If you're really worried, maybe you should-"

"No," she cut him off with the short reply. Now it was Logan's turn to be surprised. She cast a look of regret in his direction.

"Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like…"

"No, that's fine. I guess it ain't for everyone. I was just putting it out there," he said, not all too offended by her frankness. "May I ask why, though?" he inquired.

"I hated school. Hated it with the passion of a million suns," she fumed quietly. Logan couldn't help but smile a little. "It was too much for me.. especially with my mutation. My parents kind of understood. I was home schooled from when I discovered my mutation until I was 16, then I decided to go back to public school in hopes that I could maintain a normal lifestyle. Pfft.. what a joke _that_ was." Logan could hear the anger and resentment in her voice. He saw Lowen open her mouth to say more, but then shut it suddenly and settle into loathing silence. "I'm sorry," she offered, timid once more. Logan nodded and gave her more silence to determine whether or not she wanted to continue. She took his offer.

"Long story short, maybe my mutation has made me too introverted to fit in with 'normal' society. I'm so in tune with feelings, both other people's as well as my own, that I've become scared of humanity itself." Suddenly, she cried out in frustration, causing Logan to jump. Then there was silence again. The sun was going down, causing the sky to rip open to reveal its blood made up of crimson and violet hues. The melancholy quiet seemed to lift off the passenger and her driver as the colors swirled in the distance.

"Pull over at the next exit, if you could. I think this station is my stop," Lowen requested. Logan's stubble twitched as he nodded and maneuvered the monstrous truck off the highway.

"What about your friend? The guy with the bedhead and tooth necklace," he asked. Her eyes closed slightly, a sound between a light gasp and a quiet sob escaped from between her lips, and once more she composed herself.

"Spooky…" she started and trailed off before she could get anything else out. She struggled for words, trying to justify her leaving the caravan. "…he understands that I had to go," she finally said. A snort from her driver, but nothing more. His feelings suddenly radiated off him and stuck to her like a dart in a board. Disbelief, sadness, pity… the truck was hardly stopped before she opened the door to jump out into the parking lot.

_You're lying. You're lying. You're lying._

"Thank you so much, Logan." She finally said, embarrassed with herself, ashamed of her brash actions. The last thing she wanted him to think was that she was ungrateful. If anything, she felt the urge to throw her arms around this man's neck and cry out all her frustration about the world and its injustices, but she only stood there, bags on her shoulders, biting her chapped lips. Logan quirked a smile as he looked down at her.

"Kid," he spoke. "I'm the last person who would ever deserve to judge you. If you ever need help, the mutant school's in New York. Who knows? We might even meet up again." She gave a sad smile.

"Thanks, but I'm not sure a school would be a place where I'd belong," she said sadly. Logan's eyes turned deathly serious for a moment as she stared up at him from the ground, her green eyes wide and her hair tangled and crazy around her face. He tilted his head up but kept his eyes firmly locked on hers.

"There's a place for you here somewhere. Don't ever doubt that."

So much meaning in such a simple statement. She watched the truck turn out of sight, carrying the man that left her there with her mind crying out for answers she so desperately wanted, but never thought she'd find.

She wanted to believe him so badly.

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Her butt hurt from sitting on the sidewalk for so long. The automatic lights from the road had come on long ago when the sun had dipped below the line of darkening land. The manager of the gas station was cool enough to let her at least stay there without a problem for as long as she need, just so long as she didn't cause a problem. Lowen was thankful. With any amount of luck, maybe she could hitch a ride and meet up with another caravan somewhere. She leaned her tired back against her bags and closed her eyes, relishing the feel of peace that washed over her as she blocked every single thought, worry, and idea out of her head for a single moment and relished the simple noises; the buzz of fluorescent lights, the buzzing of insects, the clanging of bells on the door of the gas station, the hum of gasoline being pumped into waiting cars, the crickets in the distance, the raging roars of semis as they cruised to the pumps, hoping to quench their thirst on the poisonous, clear liquid while their drivers hoped the same for themselves, only a different type of cocktail they craved after the long drive.

"FUCK OFF, MAN!" The loud voice startled her out of her pondering and back into reality, all feelings came flooding back as her mind wildly tried to find the source of the yelling. A loud clang was heard. There, by a gas pump, a man being held in the air, his back jammed against the machine by another man. Lowen gave a shrill gasp, her body resisting every instinct to screech like a mad woman and bolt in the opposite direction.

The night suddenly turned from lazy to perilous in a matter of seconds. Patrons started screaming and running, some shouting into phones, others crying out for their companions to gather in safety far away from the man holding another.

Blood red skin. Coal black hair. Icy blue eyes. His form was adorned in a high, wide-collared jacket that was clasped across his chest with two rows of old-style military buttons. The collar the barely rested below his chin. Lowen thought all sanity had left her: a long, twitching red spaded tail.

Demon.

And that was the moment those eyes turned to lock onto hers.

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**GASP. SHOCK. DON'T FAINT. Keep reading. I hope to have the next chapter up hopefully within the week. This is when the action will really kick off. Curious, should I change the rating to M due to all the bad language, do you think? Please review. It does mean a lot to me. Thank you again.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Real quick, I just want to tell you all to look up a video entitled "Azazel - It's Raining Men". I almost died laughing watching it. No, I didn't make it, and it's not mine, but it's funny. Here is your next installment, you wonderful people. Thank you for waiting. Lots of Azazel in here, deity be praised! Please enjoy.**

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One second. Two. Three. Four.

"SHIT!" Lowen screeched, her pervious inner musings all forgotten, her mind now turned to survival mode.

_Think, think, think! No time to think! A demon! No…what? No, a mutant? Oh god, what's going on?_

She jerked her pack up off the ground and spun to make a getaway without another thought. She froze, her mind now aware of the screams. They needed her help… was she even capable of helping them? What about…? _NO. _Why was she even having these doubts? She was going to help them. They were people, just like her. With this decision of brash resolve, she turned to help.

There was a sudden pop and a near silent hissing sound that lasted for only a split second. Lowen looked out toward the scene of chaos, only to realize that its instigator had disappeared. What she _did_ notice was an odd red and black mist that evaporated quickly. She stopped in her tracks and blinked.

"What the-?"

She screamed, pure terror echoing through the station as a pair of arms wrapped roughly around her chest. She smelled oil and the slight stench of sulfur as her vision blurred into a jumble of darkness and flashes of light. The sudden rush of emotions sent a paralyzing shock through her system-her mutation seemed to go into overdrive at the touch of this intruder.

_Hatred, violence, anger, an intent to kill, yet so much calm…_

_KILL._

Lowen screwed her eyes shut and screamed. The fear raked through her body, ripping through every fiber of her being. The scenery had changed, causing her mind further disorientation. Her foot lifted and kicked out to her attacker who still held her. She connected with flesh, causing a grunt and another flash. The scent assaulted her nostrils and she was once again plunged into darkness, only to emerge to yet another change of scenery-a forest, now.

"STOP IT!" she screamed. She felt as if her brain was being prodded with electric shocks, her emotions scrambled and discombobulated, jumbled around. She struggled to regain control of her psyche. With all those feelings swirling around, she felt as if she might implode upon herself at any moment.

Suddenly, she felt the jolts in her mind seemingly jump to the surface of her skin. Her assailant yelped a word she deemed unintelligible and let her go as he jumped back quickly in sudden recoil. This was the opening she had been waiting for. She whirled around, still a bit dizzy from the instinctive use of her mutation. She took the chance to take in the features of this… _demon _(what _was_ this man?) now that her recovering brain could comprehend reality once more.

Neither of them moved as they now faced each other; the calm, unfazed red man, and the panting, ragged girl with wild eyes. Lowen wanted to wait for him to make the first move, but he seemed to be only studying her like she was just a girl he saw on a street that he had simply found interesting instead of a girl he had just attacked. The silence unnerved Lowen, whose heavy, breathless panting was the only thing vibrating in her ears.

"What… What's going on?" she gasped. "Who are you? And what do you want?" Naturally, she was angry. People just don't go around attacking random strangers unless they're a psychopath. The man's expression didn't change. The only movement Lowen could see was his long, forked tail curling and twitching gently behind him. He exhaled a quick breath through his nose.

"Introductions are a useless thing," he spoke.

Lowen's mouth opened slightly, taken aback at finally being able to hear him speak. His voice was gruff but smooth, which surprised her, to say the least. She had honestly expected an echo-y, demonic, growly voice, but his was pleasant to listen to. He had an accent. Transylvanian? No, that's not it… It kind of sounded like the baddie in an old cartoon about a moose and a squirrel she used to watch as a kid. Russian, maybe?

"Yeah? And why's that?" She didn't really know why she was trying to engage him in a conversation. Maybe she was trying to calm her nerves, maybe to buy her some time to figure out what she planned to do next. Before she could collect her thoughts, he spoke again.

"You do not usually introduce yourself to a person you are going to kill."

Lowen nearly choked. Her eyes became even wider than they already were (she didn't think it was possible) and her pupils dilated as beads of sweat formed slowly on her hairline. Still, neither of them moved.

"You…you want to… why?" she sputtered. Not breaking eye contact, he began taking steps toward her.

"I know who you are. _What_ you are. We have been long time at war with another. You play dumb to live only seconds more?" He shook his head slowly, his eyes still fixed on her. "No no. It is of no use."

Poor Lowen couldn't move. Her voice strangled in her throat as he moved forward. What in the world was he talking about? _SHFF. FLASH_. That red and black smoke again, and he was in front of her now. She tried to cry out, but his hands cupped either side of her neck. What caused her pure terror was the fact that he was barely touching her skin; the malice in his emotions barely brushed past the physical, reflecting in neither his touch nor his eyes. His eyes… blue as the sky after a storm. Lowen had only seen such a color in photos of pure arctic ice roaming the oceans of the North. His left brow was flanked with a faded scar, a healed gash that stretched from his forehead to his cheek. He tilted his head ever so slightly and leaned forward past the right side of her head. Her first thought was, _"Oh _shit_, the accent _was_ Transylvanian! He's going to fuckin' suck my blood!" _before she instantly regretted it, wishing she had thought something better for her last earthly musing.

"I will make you reveal to me exactly what you are," he breathed in her ear, his husky voice edged with a growl. She yelped, stumbling back as she felt her heel strike against something hard. The man lunged forward at her sudden movement. There was no way she could fight this guy. It wasn't even as if she didn't want to, shit, she could deck a guy in the face without a second thought, but she could tell that this man was trained. There was no way she could defend herself even if she wanted to. The closest thing to a "real" fight she had ever been in had been a wrestling match with her brothers, which hardly counted as any experience, considering that she had been pinned in less than ten seconds. She turned to her last and only defense.

She gasped and cried out in pain and shock as pure white wings ripped from her shoulder blades. Her skull and spine burned as her ears and tail announced their appearance with a flash of golden fur. She felt her nails grow and harden; her hands and upper body meeting the ground after retaliating against her backward motion. She knelt, panting, her body struggling to recover. She never got used to the manifestation of her powers and was always left tired afterwards.

She glanced upward, thinking that the demon would have taken his chance to attack in her moment of vulnerability, but found him only staring down at her, his expression a cross between confusion and annoyance. Lowen found herself snorting, sick of these riddles and games.

"_WELL?_" she snapped. He only stood there. Lowen glowered at him, reaching her mind out to his, trying to find out was he was feeling, trying to find out what was going on.

…

Nothing? She blinked dumbly, caught off-guard at this new development. She kept her eyes fixed firmly on him. He was gazing at her with…was that curiosity she sensed? What? Why? What was going on here? He tilted his head and made the corners of his lips dip lower than even his natural scowl, his eyebrows furrowing further, causing the scar on his eye to scrunch up a bit.

"You are strange one," he grunted. "Angel with a tail? I have never seen such thing."

She snarled unexpectedly, her energy gathered. She couldn't miss this chance while he off-guard. She jumped up and made a sudden connection. The two were now interlocked, both of them struggling and rolling, straining for the upper hand. White feathers fluttered through the air and mixed with the dark smoke the man emanated when he teleported them both. It finally dawned on her that the darkness he carried them through was his mutant power of teleportation. He thrashed about in attempt to shake her off, but she brutally dug her claws into his crimson skin and attempted to latch her teeth onto flesh to inflict some kind of damage. Maybe it was a futile effort, but if she was going to die, she at least wanted to make sure to cause him some trouble in his mission.

The two tumbled through unseen portals, jumping from place to place in a whirlwind of speed that Lowen could only claim to have previously experienced in dreams and nightmares. Her head started to hurt, and the smell clawed at her nose and overtook her senses. She was losing this battle. The constant, frenzied teleportation began to take its toll. Rolling, twisting, burning scenery caused Lowen's head to spin once more, waves on nausea bubbling up in her body accompanied by a crescendo of shivers and aches that threatened to throw her off her foe and cause the loss of the fight- if you could call it a fight at this point. Really, it now looked like a grizzly trying to violent shake a bunny off of its back. Lowen found herself fighting less and focusing more of holding onto for dear life as her stomach churned and whirled on this mad death ride. A sudden jerk of an arm resulted in a gasp and a slip on her clawed fingers from his clothes. Her opposing hand now grasped around his wrist, she felt her entire body dangling and flailing wildly one last time before everything stopped. Still she hung, terrified as she stared down into the large forest beneath her unsupported feet. She gave a strangled cry and wiggled uselessly. Somewhere along the way, she now noticed, she had lost her shoes.

She looked up into the face of the red man, who held his arm out the way one might if they were waiting for a large bird to land on their waiting limb. His other hand grasped both of her wings in an iron fist, not only hurting her them, but rendering her powers of flight useless. Her captor stood perched a bit precariously on a branch of the tallest tree for miles, seeming to not fear anything. The intensity of his stare mixed with her anxious terror as she trembled in pure, unabashed fear. His eyes still betrayed no emotion.

"P-please…" she squeaked. It was useless to continue. She had just attacked him. This was the final straw; the part where her shook her off like a bug and let her fall to her certain doom. Her face contorted his tortured pain, the bones in her wings screaming in protest against his strong fingers. She crushed her eyes shut and gave a shuttering sigh. This was the end.

Her body lifted slowly… so very slowly… she felt the pressure on her wings release in much the same way; slowly. She started to shiver, so ashamed at her cowardice. The brush of material against skin. She flinched.

_What?_

Warm, gentle, yet firm… was she being pushed to his chest? Yes, yes, her shocked brain registered. Warning bells screeched through her system, alerting her to run, fight, to do _something_ to get away. Oh, but she was tired. So tired… at this moment, she didn't care if he was the devil himself. Just stop the aches, the sickness, the pain. Make it all go away… she wanting him to just end her suffering, whether it be by death or comfort.

His large, muscled arms encircled her shoulders gently, his tail brushing against her calves. She could do nothing more than lean into him, grabbing fistfuls of his clothes and trembling violently against his body, both entwined in a jumble of confusion and shock. She was gasping and panting quietly, while he seemed to be measuring his every breath, a scowl plastered on his chiseled face, perplexed.

"You…" he spoke softly, causing her to flinch in surprise at his tone. He grunted. "This is not what I thought." She felt his large hand gently pat… _pat?_ her middle back. She dared to look up at his face, trails of shocked tears leaving paths over her cheeks, her green eyes transfixed on his. He wouldn't be surprised if her chin started quivering.

"You will wait." That was not a request. That was an order. Lowen could hear it in his voice, but after the ordeal, she was exhausted, in pain, and borderline hysterical.

"I, I _won't_! I want to go! I want to just get out of here!" she blurted. Tears of exhaustion pooled in the corners of her weary eyes. The man only shook his head.

"Azazel will not harm you… not now. I need to go. You _will_ wait," he ordered again. She cried out once more and buried her face in his chest. So much pain… so much pain… had he broken her wings? They hurt so bad… Azazel… was that his name? This demon? Did demons have names?

_Confusion._

"What is your name?" he asked. She didn't answer, her face still pulled tightly into his chest. He asked again. "What is your name?"

She stirred slightly, her breath slowing and evening out to a normal rate.

"Lowen," she all but whispered. He nodded, satisfied at getting an answer from her.

"Lowen, I will leave you here now. You will not leave. I will be back, and you will be here." His voice left no room for argument, but Lowen figured that she was too tired to go anywhere even if she wanted to. She gave a small nod, not moving her head away from his chest. She inhaled. He smelled so odd, a bit like metal and running water, but it seemed calming in a way.

"Good. We will go, and I will be back."

She felt her vision go dark again as they teleported for the last time. Lowen let her consciousness slip away and gave in to the exhaustion.

He would be back.

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**Oooh boy! I worked hard to crank this one out. I hope to get more of Azazel's point of view in the next chapter. Oh MAN, I **_**do**_** hope you guys liked it. It's going to get real fun from here on out now that a lot of the intros are out of the way. **

**How soon do you want that next chapter? This is gonna be fun. I have a lot of ideas for what will go down. Yaaay. Any input of what you might like to see like to see later on? I can't promise anything, but I'd like to hear what the people have to say. Thank you for all the previous reviews. I read them and try to answer questions through the story as best I can. (does that make sense?)**

**Oh, and I hope you liked that Azazel video, if you watched it. Peheh. Please review.**


	6. Chapter 6

…**Have I lost my readers? This makes me upset. Has the story digressed that badly? This…makes me sad. Shame shame. Please… do me a favor and review, if not for the sake of my ego, consider this: every time you read and don't review, I will kill another helpless Cheerio. Or something. I don't know…I don't really have it in me to do harm to anything else. Even ripping a leaf makes me very sad. A big-hearted thank you to those who have taken the time to review thus far. **

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Was it raining? She felt so odd. Her body felt so heavy, yet she felt as if she could float away. Her mind was buzzing with her mixed up thoughts being the bees, flying to and fro in attempt to organize her scrambled thoughts. First things first, she felt wet and was absolutely _freezing, _and her side and hip hurt. She had probably slept on it; the heavy, uneven distribution of weight was most likely the basis for her pain. Slowly she stirred, causing her mind and body to slowly warm up to connect to each other once more. Ugh… the feeling like a ton of bricks weighed down her chest. She rolled over, winced and grunting, finding her wings getting in the way of her intended action to reduce the pressure-

_WHAT? _She bolted upward suddenly, instantly regretting it. Her head swam as the lightheadedness wreaked its havoc and forced her head and neck down to the ground once again.

_Why the hell are my wings still out? _She started to panic, where was she anyway? She looked around wildly and found herself looking out at a lone road surrounded by miles and miles of forest. Still scrambling to make sense of her location, she looked up slightly to see that she was ridiculously close to a sign that said "Glenside Motel" jutting up from over the edge of wherever she now sat. Wait… was she…? She scrambled over to the edge of... dear god… She was ON TOP OF THE BUILDING! She stumbled back with a gasp. Was this seriously happening? _Okay okay_… she began to inhale deeply and slowly. _I'll just fly down and get out of-OUCH! _The pain when she flexed her wings was nearly unbearable. She cried out and gritted her teeth, and proceeded to twist her neck to see what was causing her distress. What she saw caused a strangled cry to rise up from her lungs; the contorted bone structure, down disheveled and sticking up wildly in a way they were not meant to stand, ivory feathers maddeningly covered in crimson blood.

That scarlet color… red. Red, just like… Quivering in pain and anger, Lowen couldn't restrain the cold-blooded snarl that escaped from behind clenched teeth. The red demon-man did this; the pain was from _him_. The previous night unfurled itself from the hollows of her mind, the feelings of the helplessness and pain surfacing once again to take over her mind. She lifted her head and glared into the distance, almost as if her near fatal stare was directed at the entire world. She hated the demon-man. A switch clicked in her mind, and all she could think to describe what happened next was "temporary mental blindness".

This had never happened before in her life. It was like a flash of lightning had struck and entered her mind. She was startled but not scared, anxious but not nervous. Puzzle pieces of memories, emotion, feelings, dreams, and ideals rushed by her eyes at breakneck speed, yet she still saw every single thought clearly. Her mind emerged from a fog that she never knew it was ever encased in-what everything always so unclear? Was that why she could only read little snippets of people instead of seeing the whole flowering picture? Barely any time to comprehend, these flashes of light and passion swirled around and were suddenly gone, leaving her wide-eyed and breathless, still shaking on top of the rigid, cold, flat surface of the roof, every nerve ending and sense tingling on the edge of her worn body. Every emotion she felt was amplified, so pure and clear, she nearly cried out. The raw regret, anger, and confusion seemed to engulf her in its now lucid clutches. Her mutation, so painstakingly and previously repressed, now emerged as a malicious beast- no, a _pack_ of malicious beasts, that were now rousing her to run, flee, anything to escape the ferocity her own mind. Her hands flew to her temples where they clamped down as if to feebly contain the tempest of emotions that threatened to rip her apart from the inside.

A scream. An animalistic howl. Then the darkness. To her, the escape was sweet bliss. She hoped it lasted a very long time.

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A forest clearing. No, not a clearing… all the trees around the perimeter had been demolished. The tang of salt and metal. Oh, blood. Why blood? Death. Death had been here. The carcasses of animals littered the area, from squirrels and bunnies to deer and… were those wolves? Slashed tree bark, trampled grass, leaves left ripped and violated, scattering the scene with debris. Where had all this come from? It was almost like-

Sudden human thought flashed into a tried psyche. With a gasp, Lowen bolted upright. Pain and fog no longer riddled her brain and body, though she still had the sensation of slight sensory overload. A slight fuzz hummed over her mind, not unpleasant, but maybe, unnerving, was the right word? She looked around, feeling as though she had just woken up from a well-deserved nap. She felt rested, though perhaps a bit sore in certain areas, but the scene that lay before her caused her unrest. What had happened while she was out? Oh… the building she was on before… how had she gotten off? This had been the second time in a row that she had woken up dazed in unfamiliar surroundings. The sharp memory of her damaged wings twisted its way down her path of thoughts, and she looked up, hoping that injuries were nothing more than a jumble of bad dreams. Alas, the wings were still twisted sadly, causing a pitiful look to take over her expression. She sighed and put her forehead dejectedly on her kneecaps and wrapped her arms around her calves. Oh, she was so lost to it all. After the whacky episode with the overwhelming emotions nearly taking her out last night (was it a dream? Maybe not…), and now this mysterious episode of her somehow waking up randomly in the middle of a wood with this…this… _carnage_ spread out around her.

She began to reverently and sorrowfully take in the gruesome scene before her. What useless slaughter... she had no fathoming of an idea as to what happened or why, and she was too sick of unexplained questions to even begin to hypothesize the events that took place here. What she _did_ immediately know was that she was desperately hungry. Dew had drenched her clothes which were… ripped, ragged, and covered with blood. _Oh shit_, the more she came to be aware the worse she felt. Her wings drooped sadly and she let out an exhausted, exasperated groan, surveying her disheveled appearance but trying not to think about it as she stood slowly. It really was beautiful, though, if you ignored the dead animals on their sides in eternal slumber. Pity and sadness crept up in her veins, but she turned to begin walking, not having the luxury or strength at the moment to ponder her feelings. There was dew lightly coating the earth and beams of soft sunlight whispering through the thick covering of leaves. Everything was hushed and still, she noticed. It wasn't a peaceful quiet, though. She couldn't put her finger on it, but it felt menacingly eerie. Well, _duh_, it probably had something to do with all the dead animals. No birds sang a single note; not even the obnoxious call from a blue jay or crow broke the morning. It was morning, wasn't it? Lowen groaned again as she sought out a path of some sort that might lead her out. This had been one hell of a long day. Scratch that… the whole week had been pretty damn crazy. Thank you, life.

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She stalked through thickets and underbrush, confounded at where she was and how far away she was from her original situation, not that it was any better. The white feathers on her wings closest to the ground were untidy and derelict due to her long walk. Due to her previous injuries, there was no way to retract them. The demon man… that scarlet bastard had caused all of this. She seethed momentarily, but the feeling rushed out of her like a flock of birds as she became immediately dizzy. That was funny; was this her mutation acting up again? Ever since the night on the roof where _he_ had left her-

Wait. What was that? She stood stalk still and tilted her chin up ever so slightly, eyes scanning the distance in hope of finding, well, _something_. For a moment, nothing but the twittering of a couple birds broke the quiet. Her face fell. Had she imagined it?

That noise again. Her eyes lit up, her mouth curved into the first real smile she had displayed in the long week behind, weary as that smile was. It was the sound of traffic- a passing car. Thoughts of the treacherous man left her mind as she focused on her next task of getting back to civilization and figuring out what the hell was going on and what she wanted to do next. She trekked onward, now with a goal in mind. Only after a few feet, her eyes glimpsed the grey stretch of tar and concrete that formed a road in the distance. Another car when whizzing on by. Her grinned returned full force and she bounded forward, propelled by the thought of food, showers, civilization, and, _who knows?_ maybe she would indulge in the guilty pleasure of a bit of mindless TV. More brush passed under her weary feet as she neared her concrete salvation.

KRFF. HISS.

Black and red smoke. The potent smell of mixed elements. Red.

_OH SHIT, NO, YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS! NOT AFTER ALL I JUST DID…!_

Rough hands encircled both of her wrists. Oh yeah. It was serious. Fuck you, life.

"I thought I told you that you would not leave." There was no anger in his baritone voice. In fact, it was the most passive statement she'd ever heard, as if he didn't really care that she had disobeyed, but obvious he _did_ since he was here pursuing her _yet again_…

"Yes, well, I had other things to do," she drawled irritably, her hunger and weakness transparent in her words. She felt a ghost of a rumble come from his chest pressed against her back between her wings. She froze. Was that a chuckle?

"You do not seem too busy to me," he remarked in the same tone. Fury churned up instantly from the hollows of her chest. Oh, how she wanted to scream and rip him apart. The sudden dizziness caught her again unexpectedly, causing her knees to buckle in a moment of weakness. A squeak escaped from her lungs, as her captor was now holding her up solely by her wrists. What was happening with her mutation? It had never made her act up like this. The sheer intensity of an emotion was enough to literally knock her off her feet. The demon… what was his name? Azazel. Right… Azazel moved his hands to lift her up from underneath her arms, and Lowen could feel that it took no effort on his part.

"I am not a man who is easily evaded."

She snorted, a defiant act that was betrayed by her quivering body. "So I've noticed." She struggled weakly and uselessly against his grip and turned her head to glare up into his face. "I'm not afraid of you."

"Your shivering speaks otherwise."

"I'm shaking because I'm hungry," she growled. Her head drooped to stare at the grass. Freedom had been so temptingly close, yet good ol' fortune had decided to screw with her, _again,_ and deal her a shitty hand. _AGAIN. _What could she have possibly done to upset the gods? She let out a sigh in the otherwise quiet setting, finally accepting the idea that she was cursed somehow. What was to be her fate?

Ever so slowly, she felt one of his hands unfurl and glide lightly over the skin of her exposed underarm and side as it snaked away. His other arm curled itself on the confines of her ribcage as to support her weight left heavy from the absence of his previously retreated limb. A flinch coupled with an unceremonious gasp escaped her as she felt his large hand touch her feathers. She had expected violence from this man, but found him instead studying and stroking the down of her tattered wings. To her, receiving this unexpected calm and _tenderness_, if you could call it that, he was extracting toward her instead of the cruelty she had expected, intimidated her to the point of panic. The spontaneous thought of her grandma quoting scripture flashed suddenly across her memory. _"__Faithful are the wounds of a friend; but the kisses of an enemy are deceitful.__"_ She released a shuddering breath and squeezed her eyelids shut, hoping it to be all over soon. The benevolence of his hands would cease soon enough, leaving her a vision of a snake coiling maliciously around its victim after a gentle caress of scales.

The hardness of his palms lightly skimming the delicate bones and ivory feathers unnerved her, causing the shaking of her body to become more violent. The worst of it was the fact that she couldn't see him; she only sensation being the telltale contact of his skin, which she couldn't even begin to read or interpret. At the thought, a pinprick on her mind started to slowly blossom. Her mutation was trying to manifest itself once more. Relying on all her concentration, she bit her lip and clamped a mental vice on her thoughts. There was no way she'd let her mutation render her even more weak against her foe, as badly as she wanted to be bale to read what her enemy was feeling, but at this point, it was too risky. A whimper emitted itself from her as his hands stopped near the section twisted bones. This was injury _he_ had caused.

"It hurts, no?" he asked. Lowen only snorted and let him imagine her answer. He turned her around slowly, almost reverently, to face him. Her nose became the epicenter for lines of anger to surface for the sake of creating her loathing expression of hatred as she now stared up at him. One side of her mouth drew itself upward, baring a canine in an animalistic display of defense. Of course, there was no way she could fight in her condition, but she could certainly let him know that she wasn't scared. Well, at least not _completely_ afraid. The twitch at the corner of his mouth for the briefest of seconds served only to infuriate her even more, but she took a deep breath for the sake of containing herself, and let her exhale come out as a shuddering sigh.

"You are hungry," he rumbled, "so we will eat." There it was again; the statements he made that left no room for any sort of argument, as if he expected her to simply come along with him like a simpleton at his very command.

"You're mocking me," she hissed. His eyelids dropped and his face turned and tilted downward only to return to its previous position in a gesture Lowen could only guess was his equivalence to shaking his head.

"I am not. You said you shake out of hunger. We will see."

_Oh, it is ON! _the very human part of Lowen's brain proceeded to scream. She immediately flushed at her own mental outburst out of embarrassment in addition to Azazel's arrogant challenge of her truth… or rather her _half-truth_, and they teleported yet again in a flash of momentary darkness, leaving behind ashen feathers and black smoke.

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**Next chapter: a picnic with Azazel? Naaaw… I couldn't imagine something like that. Could I? Maybe he'll take her to a fancy restaurant. Or maybe he'll just kill her and pick over her remains. Mmmm. Delicious.**

**Expect lots o' dialogue in the next installment, as well.**

**Do me a favor and review, if not for me, for the sake of the speed in which I post, which may be solely in your hands, reader.**

**Thank you so very much for reading and reviewing.**


	7. Chapter 7

Lowen's mood darkened further when she realized that even the sizzling of grease and butter in the skillet caused the throbbing in her skull to flair up worse than it already was. Even the smell of bacon, which she usually loved, was threatening to overpower her senses. She clenched her teeth (but not too hard because of her headache) and did her best to contain the low growl in her throat that she didn't previously realize she was making until she caught Azazel look up from his book out of the tail of her vision. She quickly averted her eyes back to her task and tried in vain to soften her expression which she knew looked like that of an angry pig. _No biggie_, she thought. _At least I'm in possession of food, now, regardless of whether or not I got it from _him_. _She continued to grip the handle and shot her crimson companion a withering glare, hoping that he would see it. He didn't.

As luck would have it, they had teleported back to the abandoned motel, but this time, inside. As luck _wouldn't_ have it, _he _was _still_ there, and it didn't seem he would be leaving anytime soon. Water was whipping against the window and the wind was baying like an angered wolf, bending the trees and sending the rain splashing sideways, causing Lowen's fleeting plans of escape to take yet another walk around her mind until she squelched the idea altogether and brought her mind back to the sizzling strips of meat in the pan before her. It couldn't hurt to stay for just one night, right? She was super tired and hungry and bruised, after all. Just some food, shelter, and sleep and in the morning she would be-

"I will cook," came the smooth tone from the chair. The headache barked back into her skull once more.

"Quiet, you," she snarled. If she exerted any more pressure on the handle she assumed it would probably dent into the mold of her hand. Springs squeaked quietly and she spun on her heel to face him, but she noted that it's _very_ hard to be intimidating when your face barely reaches chin-level. Looking up at her loathed adversary, she couldn't help but quiver only slightly under the steady gaze of those icy, luminescent eyes. Her throat constricted involuntarily as she stood firm and frowned up at him, but couldn't help but feel like a kitten trying to intimidate a bear. She parted her lips only for a second, but he spoke before she could get a word in edgewise.

"I will change the bandages on your wings." A statement. A command not to be challenged. Red hands reached out to either side of her, but she quickly stuck her arms out, her palms planted on his chest, a gesture that caused him to step backwards as well as raise his dark eyebrows.

"You-!" Lowen sputtered, the calm, composed speech in her mind slowly slipping away to be replaced with growing outrage. "Haven't you done enough? This blood didn't come from some random act of God! No, no, it was from YOU! And if you think for a second that you'll-"

"If it were random, would it be an act of God?"

All the words died in her throat and caused a sour aftertaste. She stared up at him for what felt like a very long time, her eyes wide and her expression blank. Where the hell had _that _come from?

"Azazel…" She had meant to sound threatening, but why had she ended up croaking it? Up until now, she had avoided saying or even thinking his real name. He was kept as "demon" or "demon-man" or even "sadistic mutant bastard" in her mind. Why was one little name so hard to say? _Azazel_. Crimson-skinned, dark-haired, masculine Azazel. She cleared her throat and averted her eyes. Her intimidation technique was obviously not working.

Before she could have a chance to recollect her scattered thoughts, a red, forked tail darted out and encircled her ribs like a striking snake. On impulse, she jerked her body into a backwards lean, eyes as wide as the forgotten skillet.

The headache broke out of her skull and erupted into her desperately suppressed mutation. She felt deathly feverish poppies bloom in the forefront of the deepest inside of her consciousness, their color and magnitude crushing her down and the scent overwhelming and choking her as it forced itself down into her lungs; A rush of ocean, the weight of heavy, unforgiving water and crushing cold invading her nostrils and stinging, burning her eyes and throat; Then, the blackness of open space took over, the bright flashes of light boring right through her eye sockets and out of the back of her spinning head. She had no control over any musing or thought; no comprehension of her own body. She could only remember his name as the heavy sound of steadily growing static gnawed at her mind.

_**Azazel. Azazel. Azazel.**_

Her fragile mind screamed it out like a mantra of salvation. What was going on? Her power was betraying her, spiraling manically out of control for some crazy reason. Could it be… could it be him…?

A low echo buzzed through the madness. Every fiber of her being reached out to the faint sound, hoping for escape. She strained to hear. Someone was calling her name.

"_Lowen. Lowen. Are you alright?"_

She bolted upright, throwing her body forward wildly in a reaction of sudden control. Thick arms caught underneath her arms as her face slammed into a wall of chest, causing sparks of pain to shoot through her nose as contact was made. Her knees on rough carpet, her arms wrapped tightly around a body, and her face held against safety, it was suddenly quiet; the sizzling of bacon, raindrops against the windowpane, and Lowen's own shuddering breath were the only quiet sounds that rippled through the silence. She closed her eyes slowly, realizing that she was back from her awful trip her mind forced her into. If she hadn't been so exhausted, the air, floor, and humble calm would have been screamed a hymn of praise. She had been trapped forever, yet she had only been gone for mere seconds. The lingering panic began to die down as she sat, inhaled and exhaled her breath slowly and simply absorbed the blessed peace…

…Before she became hyperaware of who that other body she was still clinging to was. Cue the panic again.

Her arms sprung away like a stretched Slinky, and her butt met carpet in place of her feet, which had leapt midway into the air before her eyes fixed on _Him_. Azazel.

"I… I… oh… it… I…"

_D'aw, fuck. _That was what she really had wanted to say in place of her stutters. Her adversary's red hand rose to cover his forehead and shield his eyes as he… _laughed? _Well, technically, it was a chuckle, but all the same, Lowen was struck dumb, but before she could gather up her words (and, boy, what words they were!), he put out one hand to stop her.

"I am not mocking you, _on-ghel_," his voice and facial expression slowly reverting back to the typical somber mask. "Please, just rest for now. I will take over cooking." His command was met only with a defeated sigh, followed by weary "Don't burn the bacon," as he turned his back to her to attend to the stove. Normally, there would be at least one "motherfuckin'" in there and would be ended with "you bastard," but, for once, Lowen didn't become angry, only because all energy had left her. The silence stretched between them. Lowen watched the black-suited back of Azazel and followed the swishing of his long tail with her eyes as it hovered inches from the floor.

"What is '_on-ghel'_?" she spoke up. His back still turned, Azazel looked to his left, but didn't fully turn his head or body to make eye contact.

"It means 'angel' in my language of Russia. But I now know you are not one of them." Lowen was superficially inclined to be offended, but she knew that it wasn't meant to be an insult. Even so, she couldn't help but be curious about this whole wild and confusing situation and decided it was time for answers, the civil, old-fashioned way: talking.

"Angels aren't really real," she pointed out.

"No?" he turned his neck to glance over his shoulder at her. "And by looking at me, you can say that there are no such things as _demons_?" Lowen paused to mull over the answer to his question and left Azazel to the cooking once more. Of course, he wasn't _technically_ a demon, and there probably was someone somewhere with big, white, feathery wings who could be called an "angel", even though it was just their mutation, but they would be called an "angel" either way.

"Okay, fair enough." Her long unused conversational manners and civility were coming back, though they still felt foreign and awkward on her tongue. "I'm actually a gryphon, though, so you were right about me not being an angel."

"Gryphon? A half-eagle, half-lion beast?" Sometime in his tone tipped off his interest. Lowen resisted the urge to smirk and continued.

"Well, less like a beast, and more like a muse, I'd like to think." She paused a moment, and when Azazel did not look back at her and remained silent, she continued. "Like in 'Alice in Wonderland'."

"That is a children's book," was his blunt retort.

"Well, not really. A lot of people read it, not just kids. Anyhow, there's a gryphon in there, and he's not a monster; in fact, he actually takes Alice away from the Red Queen and listens to stories with her." She paused on a whimsy for a moment. "You know, I think the gryphon felt bad for Alice… maybe he was trying to calm her down or make her feel more and at home and comfortable or something. I guess maybe he…" another pause. "…sympathized with how she felt."

A plate clacked onto the table in front of her, bringing her out of her momentary haze and into the vision of the blue-eyed man, both still, eyes locked. Uneasiness jolted over Lowen.

"What?" she asked in yet another failed attempt to sound confident and sure. Azazel seemed to squint, though it was barely noticeable and finally nodded his head forward.

"May I re-bandage your wings?"

There. A question; a request. You could have blown her over with a sigh. For a full second she had no reply, but finally nodded her head and tried to get her eyebrows to go back to their normal position. Warm hands wisped gently around her stained feathers. She quickly looked to her plate as she felt herself getting flustered at the contact, and for the first time, she realized what it was she was eating.

An array of crispy bacon, some type of thick meat, green grape, and eggs were arranged nicely on her dish when her mind registered a much-needed subject change.

"Devil eggs. How appropriate," she grinned for what seemed like the first time since the two had been in each others presence.

"I knew it would not be wasted on you," his musing floated over her shoulder.

"Oh, so you know me now?" Was she teasing?

"_Nee-yet_," he rumbled softly, as Lowen leaned forward to scarf more of her meal. "I can hardly say I have idea of who you are. Your mutation," he inquired, "Is it all looks? Or is there…" he paused for a quick moment. "…more of what you are capable?" Lowen chewed thoughtfully, once again trying to block out his touch as she felt his fingertips slide rough fabric off her delicate feathers.

"Well," she began slowly. "There seems to be a problem with my powers right now." She frowned at her plate as if it was the item that caused it. "Along with the appearance of my ears, tail, and wings, I also have the ability to tune into people's feelings. But, um, for some reason, it's been kind of haywire lately."

"Haywire?"

"Oh, uh, you know, acting weird, kind of 'out of control'?" She felt his strong hands go still.

"I… I've been suppressing for about two days now. It's just… headaches and weird episodes. I, I think it'll go away soon." Those hands still hovered on her wings, rigid and unmoving. Not knowing what else to do, she managed to awkwardly take another bite of her eggs.

_How bad could this get?_ She wondered meekly.

**xXxXxXxXx**

**HELLO. Long story short: housemates made life hell, I lived off relish, ice, and old carrots for a week and a half (they padlocked on the refrigerator when we told them that we were planning on moving), my husband and I packed and left the state in a tiny car, broke down with all our worldly possessions (and our 3 month old baby), finally got to our northern destination, got loved up on, and are happy. And we're buying a house here! I've never had my own place! So it's getting better. My little family is happy that we're finally out of that sadistic little hole. Still, I probably can't even express how sorry I am for making people wait this long for the story!**

**~Anyhow, about the story, it keeps getting off track from what I wanted it to sound like in my head. It sounds a bit more awkward than how I intended it to be. Well, I guess it is after a dry spell, so it's nice to try to get back on track with it. Does it sound awkward and/or forced..? I know the "they stayed together at a motel/hotel" is a LOT cliché, I only realized that after I had written it in, and I'm not up for changing it after how long I worked out this chapter. I'm sorry! Also, sorry for kind of cutting it off at the end, but, trust me, I have twists and turns and fun things planned, so please stay tuned! Keep the favorites and alerts coming! It makes me pretty happy. Don't forget to review, if you can.**


	8. Chapter 8

Lowen stared at her now barren plate with pure intensity, giving the dish her careful and utmost fake attention. She wistfully wished that she had eaten slower just so her mind could have something else to focus on instead of reveling on the red man behind, as if having something else to do would somehow make him fade right out of existence. Now all she could feel was his unmoving hands on her crippled wings.

"These headaches," he began, "happen all times when you read minds?"

"What? Oh, no! I can't read minds," she replied mildly. All of the sudden, she could feel a cloud of certain doom closing in on her as she realized where this was going. "I can't read your mind!" she burst out all too quickly. "T-Trust me," she sputtered, imagining that he was behind her with his hands inches from ripping her throat out. "even if I could read your mind, there is no way in hell that I would want to!" She instantly wished that she was behind herself, her hands inches from ripping her throat out. Why was she unconsciously trying to provoke violence?

More silence. She hated that. She took a deep breath and gave a silent prayer that she wouldn't be dead before she finished her exclamation.

"I.. I can sense emotions.. feelings.. but not any direct thought!" she rushed. Slow down, just slow down, her mind urged her from within her frantic, jumbled thoughts. Another deep breath, and still not a single movement from the man behind her.

"I can only sense what people feel.. like fear or sadness.. I can't read them to find out why they're scared or sad because, as I said before, I can't read minds, but I can feel projections of emotions. That's really all I can do.." She suddenly felt very small and stupid. At least she wasn't dead.

This awesome, powerful man that flanked her, she was afraid of him.. nay, nearly terrified of him. Not because he was absolutely intimidating not only in raw power, cunning, and strength, but also in figure. The dark stubble on his jaw, the intensity of his eyes, his tall, muscular form that commanded regal attention.. all of this was enough to terrify even the strongest man, but it wasn't that that put Lowen on guard. Even the most aloof of people gave off the aura of emotion. Azazel.. he seemed to give off nothing; no emotion, no signs of humanity, just a void that seemed to swallow up any feeling or sign of life. That was what terrified her.

"So, if I want to kill you right now, you would know what I plan?" His voice pierced through her thoughts as if he has just materialized. Lowen was struck momentarily speechless by his bluntness.

"Well, no, I can't.. do that," she fumbled after somewhat recovering her bearings. Her eyes met the carpet, but her new vision gave her wary mind and eyes little relief. "I can't sense what people are going to do, only what they feel in the moment." She only dared to glance back at those eyes. "So," she began slowly and carefully, "if you wanted to kill me, I wouldn't know.. but.. maybe I would be able to feel some signs from your emotions." There was no way in hell she would be able to know what he was feeling, this she knew, but he had no idea of this frustrating development. She took that dare and looked over her shoulder and up into his face. "I would sense your... malice, your rage, maybe your nervousness.."

"I never get nervous when I kill," he replied coolly.

"Oh, well, that's.. good," she said, not knowing how to really reply to that any other way. Thank you, gods of awkward. He leaned forward on the couch, though his fingertips left her redressed and freshly guazed feathers. The sensation caused Lowen's eyes to dart once again to the floor.

"You can know feelings, but not true intentions?" he summed up, standing and moving around her to stand at her arm. She nodded, vision barely grazing the wall of his perfectly black shoes. She vaguely wondered how his shoes stayed so clean even though they had tromped through mud, rain, and forest, as best as she could recall.

Without any warning, she was yanked off her chair and slammed up against the wall. Her mind was reeling, and she could think of nothing as those steely-blue eyes bore into her own.

"Tell me what I am feeling," he whispered, his face so close to her own. It took great effort for her to hear the reminder that she needed to inhale over the manic screeching of her panicking brain. She felt the very air around them scream with intensity. The hot breath against her cheek, the power of the arms across her throat and shoulders, the intensity of those eyes.. those eyes.. Every fiber of being in her body, both physical and mental, screamed out as she exerted her power. She had to read him, she HAD to! Her life was depending on it! One wrong answer, say one thing he didn't want to hear and WHAM, she was dead! Forget the head-splitting pain she knew would rip through her brain if she tried to use her powers again, she just knew she had to do something, anything just to pacify him. ANYTHING! The fever was starting to take over, feeling like a mix of a volcano and quicksand, the slow sinking tugging at her psyche, but with the noise of destruction rumbling louder and louder, until the sound threatened to crush her eardrums with sheer force.

She screamed; she didn't realize she was screaming at first, but she then realized that it was the only thing she could hear. It all stopped. Everything was quiet except her own loud breathing as her eyes opened. When did she close them? He was still there. He was still staring into her, as if studying the very depths of her soul. Had she really screamed or just imagined it? If she did, she realized that he wasn't at all fazed by it. He leaned closer.

"You're.. you're feeling no remorse," she gasped. "... You want to kill me." Though she didn't think it was even possible, he leaned even closer, and she felt herself hold her breath. His lips brushed lightly over her face.

"Wrong," he breathed, then retracted his arms from her body, causing her to fall back to the floor on her butt. She choked air back into her lungs. There would be bruises in the morning. His back turned, she looked up at the man as he walked toward the bathroom.

"You would be smart to train your power more. Very weak." With that, the door was shut, and she was alone with her thoughts buzzing like bees around her weary head. It was then that she realized that her powers didn't go berserk as she thought they might.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Azazel had neatly folded up the towels and courteously tidied up the bathroom for her before she went in. Lowen knew that she needed a shower, especially after last night's crazy confrontation. Before she stepped in, Azazel announced that he was heading out for more food and other "supply". Fine with her, just as long as she got good and clean and didn't have to worry about him doing anymore crazy shit.

The clean, hot water ran down her body, causing a happy sigh to escape past her lips, an act that surprised herself. She guessed that simplicity was just her type of bliss, which would explain her unhappiness at the complicated situation she now found herself in. That, and the guy she was with was a terrifying demon-man who felt nothing. With that thought, she twisted her neck to try and look at her chest and collarbone. An angry purple bruise ringed by a scarlet halo met her vision, just as she thought. She stared at it intently for a moment and let the water drip into her eyes. Thoughts of last night... dammit, what was he feeling?

As she stepped out of the bathroom, she heard knocking and stopped. Azazel. Why didn't he just teleport through the door? Now she had to let him in a towel? UUUUUUGH.. Still dripping, she hurried over.

"Ahh, I'm in a towel right now," she called out to him.

"That's okay, cheri. Remy won't peek."

WHAT THE FUCK? She didn't know whether to fall over, laugh, or open the door and kick the shit out of... of... who was that?

"Who is that?" she barked. Before any reply came, the door clicked and swung open, letting the visitor stride in with ease. His trench coat billowed majestically around him as if he was a noble of some kind. Dark, auburn hair and the same coloration of stubble patched his strong jaw. He turned to face the dumbfounded girl by the door, only to have his face be met with a heavy dose of lamp before he could utter a single word.

"YOU... YOU... WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" screeched the partially covered female wielding the seemingly harmless piece of decor. Lowen didn't care what the hell he looked like; all that mattered was that he had just picked open a locked door, walked into her room like he owned it, and, on top of everything else, she was half-naked and not in the mood for strange company. Oh, this guy was going NOWHERE. He flinched, groaned, and covered his face in anticipation of another attack.

"Friend of a friend, femme!" he yelped.

"WHY DO I NOT BELIEVE YOU?" she seethed, about to strike again. The man frantically lifted his hands to shield himself.

"Logan!" he yelled quickly, hoping she heard before he was struck a second time. That seemed to have an effect, seeing as how she put down her lamp-mace and gave him a curious look.

"Logan sent you?" she asked, startled. The man stopped cringing and nodded, a bit startled himself at the less than orthodox greeting. Then again, he had just barged in without permission.. how was she to know what his intentions were? It's not like she knew that he did this sort of thing all the time.

"Name's Remy. Remy LeBeau, but most folks go about calling me Gambit," he introduced himself with a grand bow. "And you are..? " Upon righting himself, he realized that she was standing stock still, eyebrows low over narrowed eyes and jaw stuck forward in an angry scowl.

"I am, Remy LeBeau, not used to being barged in on when I'm getting dressed. So if you don't mind.." she growled, her words positively dripping with poison and sarcasm.

"Oh no, I don't mind," he replied lightly, sitting patiently on the bed. Neither of them moved.

"Oh!" he realized to late to expect any type of forgiveness. The only reply he was graced with was a snarl and the slamming of the bathroom door.

"Try to pick this lock and your testicles will be next to your eyeballs!" came the voice from behind the door.

"Point taken, cheri."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

A/N: Hey! So, I'm not dead. Hopefully you like the update. I haven't had a computer for a while, but I typed this up in a doozy of a day or so based on weeks of ideas! I know it doesn't satisfy a whole lot, but the story will start to become clearer soon. I promise. Stay with me?


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello! I have to make a note about the last chapter: yes, Lowen's wings and ears were still out, just as they are in this chapter. I just didn't write it in because...I totally was off in my own thought cloud and just forgot to mention it. I knew it in my own mind, so I guess it just slipped my mind to write it in... so sorry! And as to why they're all still out and why she doesn't retract them? Her wings are hurt, so until they heal, she can't hide them in her body. Besides, if they haven't healed, it could spread the infection to the rest of her body and just never end up healing. That's my explanation.**

**Please Enjoy Chapter 9! SOOPA' LONG!**

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

The dark-eyed thief and the curious, still damp Gryphon sat opposite of each other on matching dingy couch-chairs, Lowen thirsty for news from her fellow mutant, while Gambit was thankful for a place to rest his bones, though also pleased to be in the company of a female. Lowen couldn't shake the awe and fascination of her companion's eyes; red irises on a backdrop of black, no doubt intimidating to enemies, but captivating as well. The corner of the admiree's mouth turned up in a way that showed he enjoyed the attention.

"Logan sent you? What for?" she asked, her wings giving a light flap as she tore her attention from his eyes. Gambit shrugged and pulled a deck of cards out of one of his seemingly endless amount of bottomless pockets.

"Seems 'e was worried 'bout ya' when ya' left 'im. Course, I'd be a bit worried too if I just up and left a femme at a truck stop. Though I guess he wouldn't be too worried if he saw the arm on ya' when I 'appened to walk in."

"Well, sorry, but these days I can't be too careful anymore," she said trying to joke, though a heavy sigh betrayed her. She looked up at him from under her hair and frowned just as he gave her more or less of the same look. "And how did you know where I was? Logan's a feral, but I didn't think he was psychic." Gambit let out a hardy laugh that caused her to blush for some unknown reason.

"That he ain't, but he's one 'ell of a tracker. The Wolverine may be gifted with a sixth sense or whatnot, but I happen to be gifted with the gift of getting information."

"So, you're a thief?" she offered, more of an observation than a question. Gambit shook his and clicked his tongue.

"Maybe I am a bit of a, ahh.. 'borrower', but I am very skilled in my... 'negotiations'." Something about his demeanor and tone tipped her off to an idea about what kind of man he might be.

"Did you have to sleep with someone?"

"In short, I'm after ya' because I owed Logan a favor," he explained, completely avoiding her previous question. "He said he felt that you were in danger, but I see that you're pretty well off," he shrugged again and began to rise from his seat.

"W-wait! I, umm... that, that's where you might be wrong," she said quickly, her sentence steadily declining into a mumble. Gambit cocked his head a bit and gave her a strange look.

"Oh?" he mused as he made a move to sit back down. Lowen fidgeted, suddenly very uncomfortable.

"Ahh, um.. it's.. it's..." She gave her confident a pitiful, helpless look, his figure leaning carefully forward toward her, as if his mere closeness would coax out the words. "I'm... I'm in trouble!" she blurted out.

"Yes, that much I got, cheri. But Gambit cannot help if he doesn't know what is wrong."

Lowen felt like panicking. She wanted to scream out that she was being held captive by a demon-mutant, Azazel, and being forced to... to... what was she being forced to do? Her mind went completely blank. Azazel was looking for angels, and she had proved to him that she certainly was no angel, but he had taken her, sheltered her, kept her safe... was she really being held captive? Or had he been protecting her? These new thoughts started to infuriate their owner, who wanted nothing more than for everything to be black and white: He had taken her, she was being held against her will, and now, a good guy (well, maybe..) was here to rescue her! So what was with all the doubt now? Had he brainwashed her? Was this a classic case of Stockholm Syndrome? Oh dear God, things were a lot nicer when she didn't think.

"Femme? What's wrong?" Gambit's voice broke into her inner monolog, his tone edged with concern.

"M-my powers," she finally sputtered. "They're... they're all haywire." She stared at Gambit staring at her; waiting for more of an exclamation, maybe? Or maybe he thought she was completely batshit crazy.

"I, I just feel like my powers have turned against me.. I, I think something might be wrong with me." Gambit gave her a curt nod that she assumed was supposed to be reassuring.

"Ooooh, I see. An empath, right? Logan filled me in a bit. Well, listen, femme, I don't know much 'bout how everything works, but I work at the school, too, so I have some first-hand experience with what I think might be goin' on with ya'."

"Please enlighten me," Lowen croaked, suddenly feeling very frail and weak. Gambit's faced showed his pity as he leaned to pat her leg, but she jerked away from his touch at the very last second. He gave her a questioning look and blinked at her.

"I-I'm so sorry! But, that... touching... seems to trigger it," she said feebly. Gambit smiled again, letting relief wash back over her knowing that he wasn't angry or offended at her action.

"I guess that rules out fooling around with men for a while, eh?" he laughed. He might as well have stripped naked and done the chicken dance and Lowen couldn't have been more shocked. The best she could do was blink stupidly and try to convince her jaw to close again.

"Fact is, femme, everyone has a maximum potential for power, which is how mutant classes are divided up," he began to explain. Lowen wondered meekly if another part of Gambit's ability was being able to ignore the weird shit he kept saying. "Class 1 mutants don't have any potential for destructive power, the best they could do is maybe.. I dunno, light up a room using their body. Now, Class 5 mutants, on the other hand, are capable of total destruction. Ahh.. 'dis guy Magneto, for example, could manipulate metal. Any metal, you name it, he could twist it, move it, mold it... hell, 'dis guy could even mess with de' iron content in your blood! Scary stuff, capable of beacoup damage."

"So, what are you getting at here?" Lowen interrupted, trying not to sound rude but wanting to get to the point. Gambit raised a finger and an eyebrow at her.

"'Dis, cheri: powers can grow more over time. You might awaken abilities in situations you're not used to, which cause a hidden side of your mutation to come out. We see it happen a lot at da' school, especially since kids don't know what they're really capable of, since a lot of them have hidden their abilities away until they came to the school and were encouraged to use them." He stopped and stroked his stubble thoughtfully for a moment. "But ya' know," he said slowly. "The most drastic changes and advances in powers that I've seen is when kids hit puberty. There's somethin' there that just kind of... blossoms out, all crazy-like."

"Yeah, thanks, but I hit puberty a while ago," she smirked, barely suppressing a snort. "But it's all something to think about, definitely," she added, hoping she would cut off another one of his awkward replies. He nodded seriously and rose from his seat.

"Anyt'ing to help. Ya' know, you could come to the school, femme..."

"Nope. Sorry, but Logan and I already talked about this," she said with a shake of her hair, and a flick of her tail. He smiled kindly at her.

"Of course, cheri, but you know the offer's always open," he said striding to the door. Lowen felt as if she wanted to say more, but she opened her mouth and nothing wanted to come out, so she clamped her jaw shut and watched as her only lifeline to the outside world moved closer and closer to leaving. She saw him hesitate, his hand on the doorknob.

"You know," he said so quietly she had to lean forward to focus on his words. "One of da' former students once said that it wasn't what he was, but what he might be capable of that scared him." A quiet stretched between them as she realized that the rain had stopped. Gambit shook his head and gave her one last look.

"Just be careful, yeah? And if you need me... us... you know where we are." And with a wink he was gone and the door was closed once more. Lowen wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

"What did you do?"

Lowen almost jumped through the wall at the sudden baritone voice, but instead made a clumsy, half-awake leap from the bed, but got tangled in the blankets and crashed to the floor. Her fuzzy mind could barely comprehend any competent thought as she blinked sleepily up at the one name that was the only coherent scrap of anything in her mind at the moment.

"Azazel," she said quietly, quickly gathering her thoughts. How long had she been out?

"Not a half hour ago, that man left here. What did you do?"

Ah, so she had only dozed for a little while. OH SHIT, was her next coherent thought, and she was back to fumbling under the intimidating demeanor of her captor. Or was he not really her captor anymore? Hadn't she come to that conclusion in her mind earlier?

"He's a friend!" she blurted quickly. "He was just here because Logan was worried about me! He's a friend! I just... just..." she trailed off under his intense stare, his arms were crossed, his face unreadable. She was suddenly horrified.

"Oh, God, what have you done to him?" she almost whispered.

"Nothing. But I must know, what did you do?"

"With him? We just talked! I didn't tell him a thing about you!" She stopped, a bit startled at herself. Why hadn't she told him about Azazel? She turned back to his cold, blue eyes and saw him squint, a noise like a grunt then caught itself in his throat as he silently turned and walked away out of the tiny room. Lowen felt her body float up off the floor with a will that wasn't her own, and, with the blanket hugged tight around her body, she felt mystified and mysteriously inclined to follow.

"Do you not believe me?" she pressed, catching up to him rummaging through a large bag that was not previously there before set on the table. Her question was met with silence as he continued his work. What had she expected? She inhaled slowly and exhaled an even slower sigh through her nose as she continued to watch, then turned to go back to her room.

"Did you and him make love?"

Cue tripping over the blanket and falling on her face in the hallway.

"WHAT?" She didn't mean for it come out as a scream, but it reflected her inner thought volume, that's for sure. He didn't look up from the bags but only kept rummaging.

"That man. Did you two-"

"NO!" she half gasped, cutting him off before he could finish. A pair of blue eyes glanced up, and Azazel proceeded to stop what he was doing and stood up straight, his attention focused crushingly on her. Lowen worked up the nerve to squint back at him.

"Besides," she countered. "Why would it matter if I did?" Azazel once again resumed his seemingly endless search of the bags.

"Would you like to train?"

"Pardon?" Lowen asked, eyebrows high on her forehead. What was it with everyone she met ignoring her? She then frowned quickly. "You didn't answer my question," she chided. Did she daresay she was growing bolder in his presence?

"Your powers. You said they were... 'haywire'. I know how to deal with that kind of thing," he rumbled, still initially ignoring her. Lowen wondered if he he had been listening in on her and Gambit somewhere, but decided to just give up on any more questioning; he apparently just ignored anything he didn't want to answer, so why bother?

"I... well, I guess that couldn't make things any worse," she shrugged. She heard him grunt.

"That is naive to think. It could get very much worse." She was inclined to be offended but only took a deep breath.

"What if I just wanted to leave?" Azazel froze but didn't look up. After a moment of thought, he exhaled.

"You are free to leave, on-ghel."

"Was I always free to leave?" she pressed. Another moment passed as he stood over the table.

"Yes." With that, he slowly set a large backpack on the floor next to the table and nodded at her. One glance at the ratty bag caused a sudden cry of delight to cross her lips.

"My pack! Where did you get this?" she asked happily.

"It was not easy to track, but I have my ways," was his vague reply. Lowen decided to not even push it as she plopped down on the ground and opened every pocket and undid every drawstring to see if everything was still there. It was damp and smelled like a gross old sock, but then again she knew that she probably smelled the same way before she showered and cleaned herself up. As far as she could tell, everything was still there.

"Did you touch anything?" she inquired.

"Nyet. I did not even open anything when I collected it."

Lowen scoffed. Collected, of course. Who knows who he killed to get this, she thought, searching the last and smallest pocket. Yep, toothbrush, nail clippers, and bobby pins still there, but something hard and foreign met her fingertips. She scrunched up her forehead and, reaching in to fish it out, she pulled up a long, thin leather cord, and following it was a gleaming ivory tooth. She almost stopped breathing and held it close to her face. Spooky's necklace. The rush of emotions almost overtook her, thoughts of her friend fading in and out throughout her head. His most precious possession had been slipped into her bag by none other than Spooky himself. The heartbreak she felt now must have been nothing compared to his when she left. She blinked back the pooling tears, feeling the smooth, cool edges of the tooth, which he claimed to be from a shark he had found washed up on a beach. She then tied the worn leather around her neck, now feeling stronger with a symbol and living memory of her friend. She closed her eyes, said a silent prayer to the divines, and then turned back to her pack.

For a moment, she was thrilled at the return of her long lost items and touched by the discovery of her friend's necklace, but her excitement faded as she realized that by returning all of this, he was giving her a choice: to stay or to be on her way. Freedom was just a door frame away, and the decision was entirely hers.

Her sitting and him standing, the two stood in the wake of a silent choice. Lowen looked up at Azazel, but he only planted his palms on the scratched surface of the counter and continued to gaze down at seemingly nothing. Something inside her reached out to him, wanting to get close to this demon-man all of the sudden. Lowen gave a sideways glance to the door, then stood up and only looked towards her feet as she ground her toe into the dirty carpet and fingered the tooth that now rested above her chest.

"What kind of training?" she asked quietly

"You will find out when we start tonight," he answered, his voice suddenly normal, causing her to realize the odd sensation it had possessed before. "Be ready."

"Of course," she managed to mumble, not sure why she was doing any of this.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

The demon and the Gryphon faced each other across the space of a clearing in the birds seemed as if they were all sleeping, but the frogs took this as their time to shine, and sang out across the darkness from a source Lowen couldn't even begin to identify. The clouds in the black sky barely allowed the moon and stars to light up the space, giving only the eerie passing of translucent beams of silver and blue to illuminate anything. Only a faint wind stirred the silent trees, casting strange shadows on the plain below. It wasn't at all warm, but it wasn't too cold, either, though Lowen could feel herself shiver, be it from weather or anticipation or... something else.

"These clothes are a little... tight," she chided to her trainer, tugging at the waistband she knew wouldn't give to the amount of space she desired no matter how hard she tried.

"They are fine," he replied, doing a quick survey of his surroundings.

The black cotton shirt she wore was baggy on her, not so much that she was swimming in it, so that she could handle, but the pants... those damn pants.. Azazel had given her "appropriate attire" to work in, but... although he said that they would fit, he was only half right. The way he had seen them from the front, they only looked like they long around her ankles, so she had tied them up with hair ties. No biggie, but she was NOT about to turn around to argue that the butt was WAY tight on her. Imagine her discomfort as she faked a smile as he walked away then tried her best to walk without the back riding up. Her worst enemy thus far: wedgies. She secretly wondered if his own butt was super-toned or if hers was just massive. Then she realized how weird of a thought that was and pushed it quickly from her mind, trying to focus on the task at hand.

"Wouldn't it make more sense to do this in the daylight?" she called out.

"Nyet," he called back, Lowen assuming that he said "no" in whatever language he kept speaking. "Darkness heightens the senses and weeds out other distractions. Plus, if the need arises, the night will hide us. Now, find me." Lowen jumped at the unusual sound of Azazel's "bamf" as he disappeared in a puff of red smoke. She twisted her neck in all directions but made no move. Well, at least the night would conceal how small those stupid pants were...

"And, ah, how am I supposed to find you?" she called out to the dark. "I don't have some crazy power that lets me see in the dark or sniff you out or something!"

"Feel me," came the sudden husky voice breathing in her ear. She let out a shriek that would have awaken Satan himself, but with another "bamf" and the smell of burning metal, he was gone was once more.

Feel him... right, she thought, still shaking from the scare, her wings fluttering in an action equivalent to a frown. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, bringing herself to unlock the gate she had put on her powers for the sake of trying to control them.

Nothing.

"This isn't working!" she yelled out again. "I think I'm broken or something!" Azazel materialized in front of her again, ever patient with his frustrating student.

"You have do stop doing that! It's... unnerving." He ignored that and walked up to her, forked tail twitching behind him.

"Then we will start slow. Sit," he ordered. For once, Lowen complied without grudge or complaint and the two sat cross-legged facing each other. For once, Lowen didn't mind being close to him. Any discomfort seemed far away as she stared into his face, eagerly awaiting instructions.

"Relax yourself, on-ghel. I am going to start to think of something. When I do, I will make emotion very strong. You will tell me what it is." Lowen nodded. That seemed very slow and careful. "Okay. Feel my mind," he instructed.

Lowen closed her eyes again and cleared her mind. The gentle hiss of the wind, the trilling of frogs, and the feel of grass and earth underneath her all faded as she focused her breathing. She did not feel afraid, even when the first pang hit her mind, a second following close behind.

"The pain is starting," she whispered, eyes still behind their lids.

"Go even slower and ease it out," he whispered just as quietly, his face very close to hers. Goose bumps prickled their way across her entire body, but she still did not yield. She opened her mind carefully, anticipating nothing so as not to distract herself from what may or may not happen.

A corner of light seemed to appear from a crevice in her brain, so she swam toward it, though little pin pricks followed the sensation of her goose bumps, almost as if everything was beginning falling asleep. Yet, there was no violent takeover or stabbing pain anywhere in her mind. Another breath to relax herself further, and she reached the light.

Orange and blue swirled together, the smell of wind on a mountain, a wolf on the edge of a hill, rain on a roof...

"Pride, contentment," she droned. "You're proud."

"Correct," he affirmed. Oh my gosh, I did it! she thought, bewildered. Her eyes popped open to study her trainer, whose eyes were still closed. A strange sensation crept into her bones

"What are you thinking about?" she asked. Azazel lifted his chin higher, his eyes still closed.

"The first time I used my weapons to aid me. I had killed a rabbit for a meal. I remember I was so hungry, I leapt after it with a knife and tracked it until I had it cornered. I have never since tasted a meal so fine... Now what am I feeling?"

Lowen closed her eyes again and searched through her mind, synapses buzzing and snapping, the field of her mind humming with the sound reawakening and rediscovery. She scrunched her face up and waited as the pain faded away slowly, oh so slowly, and she dove into another fissure of her power.

Blue, white... the gentle caress of water, smells of salt and grass, an otter on the rocks...

"Calm, satisfaction... could that be... happiness?" For the first time since they met, she heard him chuckle, and it sent chills of wonder down her back.

"The first time I had seen such an expanse of water... the Dead Sea. It was a long journey, but I made it, and it was such a wondrous sight. I floated on the top of the water for hours until the sun went down... Try again."

Green, red, and smoky gray, the heavy scent of marigolds and incense, a gazelle under a starry sky...

"Anticipation, need, excitement..." Lowen was stumped for a quick minute. "Holy shit, is that lust?" Lowen felt her entire face grow hot and knew that she was probably looked as red as Azazel. This time, he bellowed out a full laugh, something that was so terrifying and wonderful that it turned Lowen's chill into a full-body quiver. But it was so pleasant that she didn't mind in the least. That deep laugh captivated her so much that didn't even care that she had lost the concentration she had worked so hard to gain.

"A dancer, I remember, dressed in scraps of purple that showed her skin like moonlight through a shallow pond. I stayed in the shadows, drug in by my need for drink, but I could not take my eyes off her. It was so crowded that night, men packed from wall to wall, but out of so many, she chose me. I shall never forget that night," he nearly purred.

Green eyes stared, nearly dumbfounded. She finally figured it out, and it hit her like a wave falling down on her and sweeping her away: he was human. It was as if she had finally stepped back and saw the entire picture, not just shades of crimson and hues of red. She and him... they weren't that different. He had a whole lifetime of experiences behind him, just as she did, and somehow, she was too blinded by her hate and misunderstanding so much that she never got know who he was, and he was someone who was kind of like her- not the soulless, emotionless devil she had bitterly claimed in her mind. Through the dark, a single bird called out, as if those notes were redemption in the guise of song.

Azazel stood up out of the dirt and brushed himself off, and Lowen looked up, seeing him now in a new light, broken open in the span of minutes.

"Now you have a sense of how your powers manifest. It is time for the hunt. Your wings are doing very much better," he nodded approvingly. "Though," he said stepping toward her, causing Lowen to feel her heart lurch forward in her chest. "I will miss this," he said, putting a calloused hand softly on her downy ears. Now less of a lurch, her heart was shooting around her chest like a bottle rocket. "I find mutations in their true form so very... beautiful," came his hoarse whisper. She closed her eyes slowly and waited.

BAMF!

She nearly jumped out of her skin as the noxious smell invaded her nostrils, leaving behind for her but a sneeze as Azazel disappeared.

"Find me!" came his voice from somewhere in the trees, only this time, Lowen was ready.

Muscles in her legs suddenly became a force like steel, her eyesight became clean and clear, ears swiveled on the crown of tangled hair, suddenly alert and listening; the Gryphon had begun to awake.

Head low, she bolted into the thick of foliage, ready to seek out her task, and she had no intention of failing. Her eyes were open and her mind reached out invisible fingers , a wave sweeping over the grass and up through the leaves, almost like a bat screeching out to find its way, but instead she had a silent, invisible force at her aid. Her ears filled with low echoes, slivers of sound emitting from emotion that no other could hear. She stood in the middle of it all and concentrated with all her might.

The low breathing of a predator, the hum of the heart, burning yellow and red, the smell of earth and the sting of ginger; she felt him. The tendrils of her psyche oozed forth, scanning the area as she waited for something to show.

There! To the right, up on a branch! She jerked her neck to look.

BAMF!

"So you can see, but can you follow?" he called out, his voice moving farther and farther away with every word. Exhilarated, Lowen snarled, eyes wide, though not all-seeing, trying to decipher directions and the best path to follow so as to not fall over debris. A single leap and she was off.

Multitasking between honing in with her powers and doing physical work was something she had never done before. Complete concentration was always the key in reading people, so she had always stood still and focused all her energy on that, but never had she been running and reading at the same time. Still, she relished the challenge and worked to the best of her given ability to make that happen. At first, all she could do was get distracted by the sound of her own pounding footsteps, her mutation fading in and out and she lost concentration several times. There needed to be some kind of formula to it, something she could latch onto with her mind but still be able to run and seek out her prey.

She stopped, panting only slightly, mind blinking like a firefly. Think... what could she do to make this happen?

"You're losing!" came an echo from the trees. "Keep moving!"

"I know! Just give me a second!" she yelled. To get rid of this goddamn wedgie, she growled to herself, cursing the stupid too-small pants and adjusting herself, praying that he wasn't close enough to see her.

"You do not have a second! Keep moving!"

Another lurch and she was off, dirt flying underfoot. Apparently, he wasn't out to make this easy, she thought with a grunt. Still, she barreled on. The breeze combine with her speed to send her feathers and fur back, her long tail giving more balance as she moved, ears almost working like radars, telling which path was blocked off, and clawed toes peeked through bandaged soles, giving more grip to gain much-needed speed. She felt some wonderful, so free and untouchable, like a beam of light, going wherever she wanted without care. She laughed out loud, the sound so wild and jarring that she felt the rush of sensation at once. Every hue melted together as time seemed to slow, with nothing to hear and feel but her own beating heart.

She was the Gryphon. She was not just a girl: she was a creature that feeds on the life of the earth, free from trivial matters of material goods, unbound from a jostled, scared society, not imprisoned by expectations or the warped want of "normality". This simplicity, this wild game; this was freedom.

All at once, it clicked. She ran, and her thoughts followed, illuminating her target and letting all else rush into each other, showing the path of where she needed to be. A faded, orange blur sprinting in the distance; determination: she had found him, and now she needed to catch up. As if she had flipped another switch in her brain, time has returned to normal, though she found her speed to be faster than what she had imagined she was capable of. Still, she pressed on, curving her path to follow her mind's eye. Tail lashing behind her, she ran, though he was so incredibly fast, she wasn't sure she would ever catch up.

He had spotted her, this she knew because she saw him cast a lightning fast glance over his shoulder and then teleported out of sight. Not even fazed, she screeched to a halt, sending pebbles and grass flying as she whirled wildly around, only losing him for a second before she regained herself and was off to pursue the fiery form through the darkness that she had glanced out of the narrow tail of her vision. How long was this going to go on? He wasn't too far off, leaping higher and high through the branched of the trees, barely giving the notion that he was being followed. His color changed from orange to purple: excitement. Could it be that he was actually enjoying this?

BAMF! Another portal he had leapt through, this time much further away, but Lowen wheeled to the side and still tracked him. Faster, faster, she ran, muscles screaming and ever sense on overdrive, though she could barely feel a thing except for her feet mercilessly smashing the ground as she sprinted forward. His color had changed once again, though she saw his form grow larger the closer she came. Had he stopped moving? Was he waiting for her? Either way, she continued on her path, fast as ever. She wasn't even sure she could stop if she wanted, though no part of her wanted this to end; running at full speed, completely lost to everyone. His outline burned purple, blue, green, and red, a curious combination of colors she'd never seen before.

Into the moonlight she crashed, now in a clearing free of trees, not able to stop herself. He was standing there, expectant and waiting, eyes steady at the sight of her form tearing through the brush straight at him. She couldn't say she felt the same calm as all her overextended senses screeched to a halt and locked back up, sending everything back to normal as their bodies collided violently together in a fury of white feathers and scarlet skin. She felt she had completely lost her head, both figuratively and literally, as everything became so suddenly still. The air had left her lungs and her vision betrayed her, looking like it would if she had been spinning around for hours and finally stopped, though it was almost the truth.

A hand was gently placed on her hair; her arms were wrapped around the soft flesh of another body, the rest of her sprawled out behind her in a post-tackle pose. She didn't mean for it to happen, but the momentum and power... all she could think in her dizziness was, Damn...

"You have done so well, on-ghel," he said, his voice appraising and unnaturally soft. She blinked up at him, a crooked smile crossing her lips, though her vision still teetered. They held each other, still both on the ground; neither had yet bothered to get up after the impact. Lowen dropped her head onto his stomach, bursting with happiness but absolutely exhausted from the effort.

"I... I did... so good..." she panted between breaths.

"That you did," he replied, stroking her hair. Her mind swam and she attempting clear the fog, wanting to comfortably give into the tiredness she felt, but she couldn't help but think one small spark of a question through exhaustion.

"That color... when I... before I... ran into you..." she fumbled, his heartbeat rumbling dully in her ear. "What... what was that?"

His hands gripped firmer on her head and shoulder, cupping her closer, pulling her up tighter against him. All her body tensed up, preparing for something to happen as she realized what dangerous ground she might be walking on. Only a warm sigh ruffled her hair, his lips and the tip of his nose now on top of her head.

"It is the same as I felt when I had asked you when we were in the motel."

"You mean... when you cornered me and... asked me... what you were feeling?" she mumbled into his chest, her arms reaching around to encircle his waist. "I have to admit... I couldn't... read you then..." His face was completely buried in her hair and crushed down her ears.

"Then I am happy to be the first you have encountered to feel such a way," he breathed into her hair, fingers caressing her scalp. Her eyelids fluttered, her mind only half-believing what was happening and her ears beginning to fail her as sleep began to take her.

"What is it you feel?" she whispered back, closing her eyes. The body of the demon felt like heaven, his breath like a song. His words came out like the pale, fluttering wings of moth.

"Love."

She didn't mean to scream so deathly loud the way she did, but she didn't even have time to think about it, so she couldn't really help it. They were no longer entwined, seeing as how she had fallen-slash-leapt backwards. She sputtered, not able to make any intelligible words, only now fully aware of her wedgie. Azazel only smiled and moved back close to her, not bothered in the least by her outbursts.

"Nothing has to be said as of now, Lowen." There. He had said her name... it felt... dare she say... wonderful. He brushed his cheek against her own for a brief second and cupped her chin in his hand, gently guiding her face to his. She just knew her eyes were the size of tennis balls. "This night was good. We should both rest," he nodded at her. That was such an anti-climatic statement in exchange for the rest of the evening, that it left Lowen with no more room for words, though she was suddenly wide awake. His eyes suddenly shifted downward.

"I never saw that before," he mused. Lowen's face felt heat equivalent to Sahara Desert, which Azazel happened to glance back upward and notice. "The necklace," he explained calmly, a look relief replacing her previous expression, though she felt utterly sheepish.

"It... it's from my friend," she said, her voice very small. Red fingers reached out and touched the smooth surface of the bone.

It happened fast: Lowen felt herself hurled backwards, screeches of agony echoed around her. She watched in horror as Azazel's fingertips turned black, smoke equally dark accompanying the discoloration. His other hand gripped his wrist, his thumb pressing deep into the palm of his injured limb, still uttering fearsome, growling cries of pain.

"Azazel!" she screamed out, running over to aid him. He quickly jumped from his knees and stood slightly hunched, eyes snapped onto hers. All she could do was freeze and stare, scared out of her wits.

"Do you know... what that is?" he gasped. Lowen was shaking.

"W-what?" she squeaked.

"That..." he replied with a rumbling growl, his eyes fairly bursting with blue flames, "...is an angelic talisman."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

**I do believe this is the longest chapter thus far! Huzzah!**

**Sooo, Gambit's accent was awful.. I'm sorry! **

**I tried to make things more quicker and be less "blah blah blah" and muddy in this chapter. Maybe things have gone too fast? A part of me wanted to wait until anything happened between Lowen and Azazel, buuut I had the belief that readers were getting bored and annoyed at the tension, so, a bit out of character, I let a lot of stuff happen here and did my best to keep it going quickly. I do hope it's liked, though. I kept having the urge to make everything REALLY long and REALLY intense, but... I did my best to tone it down. But there's still so much I want to make happen before this story ends (It'll have an ending! I promise!). For example, a little more use of Azazel's tail at the request of a certain reader. :] (Err, before you get scared, it's not, like... inappropriate.. Haha!)**

**THOUGH, I'm not 100% sure of what I should do between the two of them... and I'm not entirely sure I could write a... ahh... more than PG-13 "love scene" between the two... but I dunno... what do you think?**

**Grace this chapter with a review of what's on your mind. I'd love to hear some thoughts and ideas! Thank you for reading.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Oh, sweet, sweet watchers, followers and fans of this story!**

**I'm so sorry for my lack of update! Hate me, because I deserve it. Left you with a cliffhanger. I have been without a computer for a long while AND**** have moved from my [evil] place in Tennessee and now live happily in Michigan.**

**The more I look at this story, the more I keep wanting to rewrite it... you know, slower, because it seems like Azazel becomes slightly affectionate a bit too fast. I dunno.**

**I am in dire need of opinions! Make sure to comment/review!  
>SHORT CHAPTER.<strong>

**XxXxXxXxXxXxX**

The night had been a long one. The usually familiar, homey crook of a tree that usually gave Lowen such comfort now lent no sleep. The sun was nearing its awakening, but no sleep came for her own weary mind. Restless as ever, Lowen laid on her back and fingered the seemingly harmless tooth and its cord against the backdrop of the deep expanse of sky, a huff escaping her nostrils. It was one of the few memories she cared to carry with her through her journey, so fathoming the damage it had just caused...

"Some trouble you turned out to be," she mused out loud, addressing the offending object as if she expected it to talk back. The enamel glinted ever so slightly, as if winking at her from an invisible eye.

With her nose wrinkled in frustration, she cautiously turned to inspect the ground, before angling herself downward and jumping to the grass below. If sleep wasn't about to visit her, she might as well do something useful. What was she supposed to do now? Go back to the road? The pack she had thrown over her shoulder weighed heavier than before, though she knew it was the same as it had always been. Go back to wandering after all that had happened? Her life suddenly thrown into a huge web of mystery and intrigue, then, suddenly, gone. Vanished. In the same way he did. Oh, God... Him... Thoughts of charred flesh and blistered skin burned itself just an painfully through her own memory. She shrugged off her pack and halfheartedly flopped to the ground, not wanting to move. The thought of her actions combined with the dizzying mystery of what was actually going on was enough to stop her in her tracks. His eyes, angry, yes, but also... hurt, shocked... and it was all because of her. He gave her no chance to explain. After minutes of unintelligible stammering and sputtering, he had vanished without a single word, leaving her with only her few earthly belongings, the smell of burning metal, and the chilling feeling of despair.

This time, for the first time in so many years, she was really alone.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

The smell of gasoline and the rumbling sound of well-oiled motors and machines was close enough to heaven for him, if he believed in that stuff. A lone wolf with a wrench and grease his jeans was a normal sight for most of the lingering students who were courageous enough to venture into the garage when they knew the Wolverine was tinkering, though they were all wise enough to keep to themselves and not disturb him, and he relished this fact.

"LOGAN!"

Then again, there's always that one...

"You had better have a good reason for-" came the menacing tone from beside a vintage motorcycle.

"There's someone at the gate for you! I didn't let them in, for security reasons, you know... but she said she didn't want to come in anyhow, so she's still out there waiting for you at the end of-"

"Slow down there, squirt," he grunted, lifting himself off his knees and approaching the young student calmly. "Who's out there, now?"

"I don't know, Professor Logan. She said he name was Lowen. She was pretty dirty, but she didn't look like she was hurt or scared or anything, she just-"

"Lowen!" he exclaimed, keeping pace of the constant interrupting. He paced quickly over to the gargantuan garage door and heaved it up, throwing a "Thanks, kid" over his shoulder at the curious student.

Lowen, Lowen... the dirty, smelly forest kid who had saved her rather large companion from being shredded to bits? How could he forget? He could see her lone figure as he made long strides towards the end of the yard and to the gate that prevented cars from pulling in. He couldn't help but grin at the sight of the same wild hair and dirt-smudged skin, though he thought by the smell of her that she could definitely use a shower.

"Hey there," he greeted as he approached.

"Hey," she replied with a weak smile and matching tone. Logan couldn't help but cock his head.

"To what do I owe the pleasure? Finally consider joining?" Lowen shook her head, but the weak smile turned itself into something a bit more genuine.

"No way. Just... stopping by... I mean... I-I just..." She looked up guiltily at the ever-patient brute of a man. "I'm lost," she said weakly.


	11. Chapter 11

"Anything to drink? Soda? Beer? I keep my stash hidden away from the half-pints around here. Not that they don't end up finding it somehow anyway..."

"Water, please," Lowen requested meekly. A large bottle of water was handed to her from the beast of a man as Logan made himself comfortable on the stool, leaning on arm across the smooth marble counter, other hand gripping a skunky can of Molsons. Lowen could only sit stiffly on her own seat, ankles crossed, back straight, and eyes cast downward. This was the _last_ place she could have ever imagined herself, and she felt ever more awkward accepting hospitality from a man she hardly knew.

"I-I really appreciate what you're doing..." she mumbled. The Wolverine snorted and took another swig of his personal poison.

"No need to thank me, really. I don't do the shopping around here." A weak smile crept into her expression, her body forcing itself to relax.

"I just... something very wrong has happened." She glanced up at her waiting companion, then down nervously once again at her own drink. "See, there's... a guy..."

"Did he hurt you?" came the immediate question.

"I DON'T KNOW!" she screeched suddenly, terrifying herself. That couldn't have come from her. The water bottle was now haphazardly strewn on the floor, water spilled everywhere. She looked up at Logan, horrified at her own outburst. He was off the stool, his body was tense, eyes showing caution. He slowly put his hands up, palms forward next to his face, his head ducked slightly. Lowen knew this position: an animal trying to show that it wasn't a threat.

"Kid, it's alright. I didn't-"

"Logan, something weird is happening to me. My powers are weird. I-I just learned to control them. This... guy... he-he showed me how. But, I hurt him... bad... and, and my powers are in my control, but I still feel... feel..." Lowen had no idea that anyone could stutter out a sentence so fast. She felt like a small child who had lost the only toy that could keep the monsters from creeping out of the closet. Her chin was now pressed firmly into her collarbone, her hands grappling through her greasy stands, fingers digging into her own skull, and her knees pressed to her forehead. She was destined to stay forever in the position she first started in.

Her chest expanded slowly and fell in the same manner as she willed herself to breathe.

"When I'm out of my element," she mumbled into her legs, "I become timid and weak. I get all terrified of everyday things. My powers didn't help things at all. I mean, my parents always wanted me to use my powers 'responsibly', whatever the hell that meant... I guess they wanted me to make a difference to other people. But, guess what? Surprise, surprise, not everyone wants to be helped, _especially_ not by a mutant." At this point, she wasn't sure if she was talking to Wolverine more than she was just monologing to herself. "So. Off I went. With people I barely knew, with the only friend I trusted. Away from my family, and the people I loved..." She had to stop. She felt herself shaking in a mix of emotions she didn't want to confront.

"Your family is dead?" Wolverine flat-out asked. Lowen knew he wasn't one for subtlety. All she could do was weakly lift her head and look him in the eye with sad, bitter eyes. He sighed and ran his own hands through his already wild hair.

"Mind if I at least stay the night?" she asked feebly.

How could he say no?

**xXxXxXxXx**

"So."

"So?"

"What did Wolverine say?"

"I was just telling him about my life."

"You mean your former life?"

"I need to lie."

"Lying is bad. It's a sin."

"Oh, spare me. Okay, if you want to get technical, I didn't lie. So sue me. I just chose to avoid certain topic and not directly answer direct questions."

"Sooooo, no one doesn't know that your family is alive?"

"Look, I-"

"Or a younger brother?"

"Okay, let me-"

"Who goes to this school?"

"Shut up!" she came a furious, hissed reply. "Now listen to me! Don't you DARE judge me! Do you know why I left?"

"Yes."

"NO, you don't! You don't know a _damn_ thing!"

"'Darn' thing," came the inevitable correction. She was now going to continue unnecessary swearing because she knew he hated it.

"This isn't really any of your business..." she started.

"But you're here, aren't you? You took the time to find out where I was. That means something."

Uncomfortable silence held thick in the air between the two of them.

"So, how's mom and dad?" Lowen asked in a more civil tone.

"Good, I guess. Annoying, kind of. Always worried about the camera store and cholesterol and that junk."

"Is dad in bad shape?"

There was a pause that seemed to linger longer than it needed to.

"He had to have a triple bypass surgery a few months ago. His heart was super weak, and he... well, he hasn't really been the same since. No trips to get coney dogs, no cheesecake, not even a trip to the museum. And... and he loves the museum..."

"Eli... I..."

"It's your fault." he finally muttered spitefully, looking up from his textbook to shoot her an accusing glare. "You and your stupid plan to 'save' our family. You left because you didn't know what to do with yourself."

"No one else knew what to do with me, either!" she was quick to justify.

"That's when you go and find out who you are! Make a name for yourself and do something with that name! Not be an idiot and run away like a stupid, scared little kid! It took mom forever to get back to her normal self. Hell, she's _still_ not okay, yet!" Hearing the word "hell" from anyone else couldn't have made her bat an eye, but hearing it from her always good, always optimistic little brother made her flinch back. She was honestly at a loss for words. "You left everyone to 'protect' us? Don't make me laugh! You left because you're selfish! You always were, and you left with your precious powers, hoping to be "special" in a place where people would "get" you!" His voice was steadily rising as he stood. "YOU'RE NOT SPECIAL, OKAY? YOU'RE NOT SPECIAL BECAUSE YOU DON'T HAVE A NAME TO CALL YOURSELF BY!" His voice echoed off the walls and slammed into her like waves. She wanted to scream back, defend herself and her actions, but... the more she thoughts, that's kind of all it came down to.

"Does anyone even know your real name?" he asked, softly this time.

Lowen's chin dug into the tops of her knees as her eyes glossed over.

"I... I don't remember my real name..." she whispered into the darkness of the room. Eli let out a long breath and sat back down very slowly. He was going to be 16 soon, that much Lowen remembered. In July, right? His face looked so worn, and his eyes looked so old for someone who claimed to be so young.

"No one remembers. Everyone called you 'Lowen' as if it was what they've been calling you since you were born."

"You remember then?" she asked with a sliver of hope in her worn out whisper. He shook his head.

"I don't. All I remember is that's not your name. I even asked Professor Xavier to scan my mind to find out about my family." Lowen felt her skin prickle nervously. "Before you ask, no, I didn't let on to the real reason I wanted him to tell me about the fam. I brought it up casually, spouting some nonsense about how I just wanted to see if he was really psychic, but it didn't matter. He named everyone else, but he still called you 'Lowen'. I can feel it... some gray area in my brain... your missing name."

"Maybe we're not meant to remember," she shrugged, her body still cold from the chill. Eli cocked a lop-sided smile her way.

"Yeah. Maybe. Maybe it's mutant thing. I still wish I could remember, though..."

"That and who did it, and why we can't remember."

"Maybe you did it?"

"I have no idea. I'm still searching for it, Eli."

"Yeah... maybe," was his vague reply. Lowen unwrapped the comforter from her body and lifted herself off the bed. She needed sleep, and that shower was sounding great. She willed her feet to drag across the carpet and lead the rest of her toward the door.

"Lowen..." Eli called out behind her. She turned and looked at him, but his eyes didn't meet hers.

"Do you remember the note you left? It was on your bed the night you left. It just said 'Angels Will Kill Me'. What does that even mean?"

"What?" There was a strange movement in the air now. Lowen narrowed her eyes and stared intently at her brother. Ever-earnest, he just gave her his usual blue-eyed stare as she turned to look around the room. Nothing moved save the dust floating through the moonbeams from the window. Lowen leaned in closer.

"Eli... I never wrote a note."

**xXxXxXxXx**

**SO HEY. Azazel. Again. Soon. I promise.**

**It seems that I got some new followers! You guys/girls are just so wonderful. c: **

**Want another chapter faster? Longer? Hint: LEAVE REVIEWS! **

**Should I have some scenes with Azazel that are... "sexier"? What do you guys think? Anyhow, do me the favor or reviewing.**

**A part of me is going back over the story and thinking "Good lawd, I hate this so much..." but another part of me is trying hard to correct my too-fast pacing and weird character quirks in Lowen by giving better explanations. I hope I'm not letting you guys down too hard. Do you like the twists? Don't worry! All will come together! I hope you enjoyed meeting a part of Lowen's family. More to come! c:**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** Hi.

"No one would have blamed you if you had used the front door, kid," that gravelly voice chimed suddenly. Lowen jumped and could have punched herself for not realizing he was there in the first place. Logan was the last man on the planet she has wanted to see as she half jumped half fluttered down from the 4th story window; but there he was, his broad shoulder leaning carelessly against the brick structure that towered over both of them. He motioned to the unlit cigar perched atop one of his ear as his alibi of why he was outside at such an ungodly hour.

"Rules.. kids.." he grunted as he slid it out from behind his ear and sparked up a match against the brick in the confines of darkness, never taking his eyes off the barefoot, bewildered girl. She knew that he was waiting for an explanation. The only thing she managed to do was give a couple of helpless stammers before doing her best to close her mouth. Finally, she drew a breath, sheepishly and stupidly trying to regain her senses.

"I... man, to be honest, I was doing it specifically to avoid you," she admitted ashamedly, lowing her head and digging a toe into the dirt, only managing to fake a ghost of a smirk, as if she meant for this whole situation to be comical.

"And why would that be?" the stocky man asked, exhaling smoke before giving the wall under his shoulder a shove as righted himself. His eyes held suspicion; he was wary of her actions. He of all people knew that she was being sneaky. Besides the fact that he has caught her in the act of "escaping" out the window, she practically reeked of guilt, and her constantly shifting stance gave another reason.

"You've just been... so kind..." she struggled.

"Kind enough to warrant a half-assed escape plan, for whatever reason," he grunted.

"No please!" she said. Part of her wanted to cry, and another part of her wanted to flee into the darkness. She enveloped her entire face in both hands and took a deep, slow breath, lifting her head upward, her mind jumbled and her mouth trying to figure out what to say.

"I'm... I'm not running," she said slowly, measuring her words. "I mean... I'm leaving... but just because I'm scared of other things doesn't mean I shouldn't face it head-on, right? So, I think I need to search out who I'm looking for and... figure it out. Apologize. Figure out how I feel. Become brave. Find answers. Tell him that I-"

She suddenly froze, realizing what she had just blurted out. That last one had somehow ended up spilling out so suddenly. Logan raised with eyebrows and waited, staring her down expectantly.

"I-I-I didn't... umm..." The stocky man only put up a hand to stop her faltering words.

"It doesn't matter," he said gruffly. Lowen lunged forward suddenly, her fingers curled and her head bent downward, like a charging bull. The Wolverine had always been trained to prepare for anything, but he could have toppled over when this wildly confused kid barreled into him, burying her face in his chest and her arms clinging around him so tightly. His whole body went tense, arms hovering awkwardly in midair with his cigar burning uselessly in between his wavering fingers.

"I... I need to stop running..." she whispered into him. If not for his super human hearing, Logan would not have heard anything but a near-silent, shuddering sob pressed into his massive chest. "I am afraid. And I need to face everything I've been feeling. I don't want to be afraid of emotions anymore." Lowen could feel colors seep out from his body and gentle curl in wisps around her mind. She didn't fight it this time. Blue, ocean hues and crimson-purple sunsets drifted from this beast of a man and came to rest within in the openness of her receptive mind. She let the tingling shivers run through here, ruminating in everything he was feeling. Long, wispy grass danced lightly against their ankles as their bodies and minds couldn't comprehend or care about who was comforting who.

The faint line of whitening sky let itself be known on the horizon; the stars blinking and shimmering began to retreat out of the sky and fade back into the vast cosmos until the night came once more. They both knew she had to go soon.

"I promise... I'll come back."

Now all he could hear was light sobs coming from this broken girl. And all he could feel was her pain.


	13. Chapter 13

_Stupid, stupid, STUPID girl!_

That was the only angry thought she had as she drifted along, gliding barely above the treeline. The weather was that of a mild spring morning. Frost glistened on the flora below, covering both the hardy blades of newly sprouting grass and the sleepy buds on the slowly awaking trees. She was glad to have washed her hoodie before leaving Xavier's institute; she probably wouldn't have been able to stand the weighing filth against her skin while it was so chilly. Still, she knew it would warm up. Until then, thoughts much akin to "_Stupid, asinine, moronic, STUPID girl_!" kept her mind afloat in seething anger with herself, while white wings flapped rapidly, struggling even to keep their owner afloat this far.

The scenery was looking more and more familiar. The shivers kept making the hairs on her limbs stand on end, despite being bundled up to fight the said cold. Maybe the slits on the back of her hoodie were too large? She had put two zippers in to accommodate her wing, but perhaps she has overestimated the size..

She stopped her thoughts suddenly: _No, that's stupid._ She knew _exactly_ why she was shivering, and it wasn't the cold.

The forest where she has chased _him_ like she was hunting down her prey. His teasing glances, rough guidance, and brief, gentle touch danced like frostbitten appreciations in front of her eyes. But she didn't want to remember. She didn't want to see it all again. So she closed her eyes.

"OH MOTHER OF FUCK MY GREAT AUNT MOTHERFUCKIN' GODDAMN...!" the obscenities continued as the violent cracking of branches and loud rustling of brush scared birds into the sky and making small animals run for covered, startled at the savage disturbance in their otherwise peaceful hideaway. Closing you eyes while flying AND being distracted by your thoughts is a bad way to go, as Lowen had now figured out. One stray, prickly branch to the face, and it's never been easier to take down a mutant without all her wits about her.

"Sweet mother of God, I'm glad no one was around to see _that_ blunder," she blurted out loud from the ground. Wispy clouds passes lazily above as she lay on her back, nursing the indented line of pain across her face that she could only assume was glowing bright red. It going to leave a handsome bruise that she would eventually have to lie about to convince both the curious party and herself that she wasn't a complete idiot. Although, deep down, she knew that she was.

"Good God, what a grand start to the day," she grumbled, stumbling upright, completely embarrassed, even though no one else had seen her crash-landing. Quite suddenly, she jerked around, checking out every tree, bush, and darkened space she could scope out. With her luck, someone had probably seen her, despite what she may think. She crouched low, suddenly dead silent, as if maybe an adversary of some sort had been attracted to all the racket caused by her display of mayhem. A slow scan showed nothing. She felt nothing. Nothing at all.

For a moment, she was crestfallen. She was, after all, in the place she had wanted to come to. A hopeful, naïve part of her half-expected Azazel to be here, waiting for her return with open arms, ready to console her with... with... with what? Kind words? Hugs and kisses? Chocolates and roses?

"Am... am I stupid?" she asked aloud. She waited. She expected an answer. With all the crazy things that kept happening to her all in a row, why did no one show up here? She kind of expected the mayhem and embarrassment now. To be honest, she didn't know how he would react if she sought him out again.

"Okay. It's just you and me," she breathed, trying to relax. You and me being... _me and myself._ She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and expanding her chest outward, then exhaled slowly through her nostrils. She opened her eyes again.

"This is stupid!" she said out loud once more. "How in the world do I fix myself?"

She wished that someone was there. She wished that someone would answer.

"I..." she stopped. She furrowed her brow and sat herself on a moss-covered stone, shucking her pack off of her shoulders. She gritted her teeth and propped her elbows on the tall bag that stood against her knees as she sat. She needed to stop being so fickle.

"No one can fix me. Most everything I'm suffering from is self-inflicted," she declared. Silence. She then blinked. "Well, scratch that... not 'most everything'.. _everything_, really." She ran her fingers nervously through her hair.

"If I want to be honest with other people, I need to be honest with myself. I'm a selfish piece of shit. I make people worry and suffer because of my actions and choices." She let her mind drift to her parents, to her family, to her dear little brother.

"I'm not afraid," she whispered. Her brows furrowed even lower at the statement. "I am not afraid," she said quietly. Why could she barely get it out? "I... I'm not afraid!" she said loudly. The anger she felt before surged up through her like a burning gyser. Her pack tipped on its side as she bolted up.

"I AM NOT," she screeched at the forest, the sky, and anyone and anything that could hear her, "AFRAID OF MYSELF, MY FEELINGS, OR MY POWERS ANYMORE!"

The echo was what she first heard. She had expected to be scared by her own words echoed back through the forest at her, but that was not what the woods brought back to her ears.

All she heard was a deafening, monstrous roar.

And she froze. The trees echoed with this beastly sound, the creatures that were supposed to reside in this place deathly silent, the sun now beating down on the open glen, melting away the frost on the ground. The echo faded, as did Lowen's resilience.

"I," she said, wide-eyed and suddenly through the silence. "am not afraid." She shifted. "Though I think I have a right to be a bit concerned," she mumbled.

xXxXxXxXxXx

"What'll it be, hon?"

"Ahh.. I'll take a water, any fresh fruit you've got.. apples, oranges maybe? Sorry, I can't decide.. aaaand... can I just have some egg-whites?"

"Livin' it up, hmm? Sure thing. Oranges okay? Won't be peeled when they get to you, though. I'll put your order in right now."

With no time to answer, and the was waitress hollering across the kitchen to "Sal" or "Al" or whoever was cooking today, and the only thing Lowen could do was to wait at the mercy of her server and hope her tummy would be filled up soon.

The lunch rush had mostly died out, leaving only a handful of tired truckers at the mercy of the little diner, and maybe one or two old men and their wives chatting in a corner booth. That suited Lowen just fine. She was content to just wait in the chattering din of this little roadside gem, the smell of grease and fried food delightfully assaulting all her senses. The intricate twirling of a stray spoon between her extended fingers served as a distraction from her overworking mind. Of course, she couldn't spin the spoon forever, so she might as well just get it over with.

The dingy spoon that had seen better days was plinked down on the table, and a mind in the same condition was then put to work.

That guy sitting at the counter, sipping coffee. _Let's start with him, shall we?_ This was it. This is where she put aside that stupid fear and embraced everything that had previously scared her. Curiosity was put in the front of the line-up. Whether things be good or bad, she was tired of being lost and overcome by feelings; the very thing she could see and manifest. Now it was time to take control of her life, and by doing so, she had to give up fear completely.

_Here goes nothing.._ Lowen took a deep breath.

She focused on the man's back, the colors of his shabby flannel becoming almost opaque as she queued up her mind. The colors blurred for a split second, then jumped around the man. Little streams of oranges and dusty-grey hues swirling around him like puddles by a stormdrain.

_A tired sparrow, a sunset, a cool stream..._

Lowen heard laughter and lively chatter, smelt cut grass, and tasted earth and salt.

There was the burning smell of bitter smoke, the feel of powder under her fingers, the burning rays of a bright moon...

It all came flooding it, only for a tiny second, but she felt all of it. She drank it all it, the sensation of feelings and emotion. Then it was gone. However, it stuck with her, fresh in her mind, everything this man had unknowingly given to her. Maybe she was being too invasive..? No. No more questioning. If you rethink something like this that you were completely sure about before, you'll just end up second-guessing yourself forever onward. She was done hiding, being silent, and being afraid. She lifted her pack out of the seat and lugged it over next to the man at the counter.

"Heya," she greeted as she sat on the worn vinyl-covered stool next to the man. He turned his head toward her, his tired eyes barely bothering to take in more than a scarce glance at this ragged creature that had decided to make its perch right next to him. Patchy stubble ran across the man's darkened features and up to his sideburns that locked awkwardly into the rest of his hair.

"Hey," came a quiet reply as the man took another swig of coffee.

"Ahh, I know this may seem odd, but, ahh..."

"Kid," he sighed as she put a had to his exasperated brow. "I don't have any money on me. Honest, and if I did, I-"

"No no no! You misunderstand!" she interrupted. "Umm.. I just wanted to ask.. do you have kids?" He gave her an odd look out of the corner of his eye and then took another sip of his drink.

"I do. Gina and Robbie. Twins. Not identical, before you start askin'. Boy and a girl." Lowen hadn't really expected him to open up to her at all, much less this quickly.

"Is that so? How old?"

"Both turned 11 this year. I'm dreading seeing them turn into teens, though. They grow up so quickly. They're so damn smart, I'm nervous they'll be teaching their old man things before I even have a chance to be a good teacher to 'em." He chuckled for only a moment, before his eyes turned sad once more.

"Well, um, sir.."

"Name's Nathan. And you?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"I'm... Lowen," she said hesitantly. "But, I just wanted to say... that... I know... I know it's hard to be away from them. Your family, I mean. But... please keep at it. You work hard, and I know you're a good man. You've turned down so many temptations and overcome so much. You just want to do your best to provide the best life for your family, right? I know you just want to get home and hug the crap out of your wife and kids. I just want you to know.. that.. that..." She looked up into the man's stunned, wide eyes. She felt that she could say it... she wanted to say it.

"You... you are blessed. Something wonderful will happen for you... for everything you've done. You have a blessing over you."

She felt strange saying it, as if the words weren't her own. Nathan's lip twitched. Lowen didn't know whether she should duck and run full-speed out of there or go back to her table.

"Hey..." he mumbled. Lowen perked up, however, Nathan seemed to be faltering. "I... thanks, kid. I... I just miss them so much..." His hands were balled into fists on the counter, his knuckles pale as his mug sat now untouched. "I... I... more than anything, I just want to be close to them, now. I've been a bad person in the past, but I've changed. I've put it behind me. I'm a good man, and I'm done with this life, but it's all I know."

"Are you afraid?" She didn't know why she said it, but she did. Nathan just nodded.

"Yeah, I guess I am. But I can't afford to be a coward no more. I need to... I need to find the courage to move on."

Both of them were silent.

"And what are _you_ looking for?" Nathan asked. Lowen exhaled and got up to go to her table, a smiled tugging at one side of her mouth.

"I'm looking for my name."

"Your name?" Nathan looked surprised. "That's a funny thing to lose-" his phone began to chime an unfamiliar tune. He turned to unclip it from his his belt. "Sorry.." he mumbled at Lowen before sliding it open. Lowen nodded and headed back to her table.

_No fear, no fear..._ her mind chimed. For the first time in a long time, she didn't feel unsure of anything. She felt wanted. She felt powerful. She felt at peace.

"Lowen?" She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden interruption and turned to find Nathan, eyebrows raised, phone extended to her. "It's for you," he said, with a confused expression on his face. Lowen blinked.

"Pardon?" she stammered.

"It's... for you," he repeated, looking as baffled as she did.

"But... how...?" She cut herself off and took the phone carefully out of his hands, glancing unsurly into his eyes as she spoke into the mouthpiece.

"Hello?"

"_Heading deeper into the rabbit hole, aren't we now? Trying to find Alice, gryphon?"_

Suddenly, a deafening chorus of ringing caused Lowen to almost drop the phone. The diner phone line, the phones of the other patrons, every device started ringing on full blast.

"_Here's the deal:"_ came the voice over the phone that somehow managed to be heard over all the chaos when Lowen put the phone back to her ear. _"I've got your friend, here.. Spooky, is it? And you're going to be doing exactly what I say."_

xxxxxxxx

**A/N: **

**SORRY. I am a bad person who writes boring things.**

**HOWEVER, it's all coming to a head! Azazel. Next chapter. Cross my heart.**

**Review for me, would you? I'd love that, and it would encourage me to get another chapter out quickly! **

**It will be a better-quality chapter next time. I promise. I'm so sorry. D:**


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